Close Your Eyes, Cover Your Ears, and Pretend
by Maddie Lupin
Summary: *Complete* When Tom Riddle's diary was destroyed, his memory was obligated to find a new residence. He quite reluctantly becomes appointed to Ginny's body, but she doesn't know he's there...until the topic of schizophrenia puts an idea into his mind.
1. A Faded Memory

  
A/N: This is a response to a challenge at FictionAlley Park. It deals with the memory of Tom Riddle, Ginny, and a "psychological problem".... I wouldn't exactly call it a romance yet 'cause I just started, but I do expect it to be a dark fic. This is the prologue; the story gets longer. And please review so I can decide if I should post somemore. Enjoy.  
  
Disclaimer: The wonderful world of Harry Potter Belongs solely to the lovely J.K. Rowling.  
  
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Prologue A Faded Memory 

The existence of a memory is not a particularly happy one. For the majority of the time, it's like being a ghost, a spirit of some kind, stuck halfway between heaven and hell. There are no fluffy clouds or angels, yet there are no eternal flames or howls of utter misery. It's much, much worse than that.

Basically, there's nothing, no options really except to watch yourself collect dust. You begin to find that you're easily entertained by something as bland and ordinary as the sound of your own breathing, merely because of the fact that you don't have to but can.

Memories never die. They can't be destroyed. They can only be forgotten and weathered, and many have been, much to their dismay and delight.

A part of Tom Riddle was but a memory now. He once resided in his own diary, not knowing beforehand (of all things) that he'd be stuck there for fifty or so years, either watching the living or reliving his own life up until December of 1942. 

Many foolish souls try this, blindly entering a dismal fate they cannot escape. This sixteen-year-old memory learned this quickly, going through so many things and being so helpless that he could only listen to his surroundings. Once trapped inside, he waited as the human version of himself, who was weakened ever so slightly, picked up a quill and began to write to strengthen the memory.

Within this diary were no windows, no view to the outside world. Tom could only rely on the sounds he heard and the entries Voldemort wrote, which became fewer and fewer as he gained power. The last time he heard him was when he left for the Potters'. Next, his Death Eaters would come along, and one of them would be the next to obtain him.

As time went on, he became weaker and weaker, starving for input. Sometimes, in his own little world, he would scream and sob for an end.

But even he knew that would never come. Memories don't die.

Right before a series of events that would send his memory vulnerably out into open, he's spent the better part of eleven years in a desk drawer at the Malfoy manor. By the next year, the diary had been destroyed - by that blasted little Potter, no less - and his memory, floating aimlessly without a host, was then securely attached to the nearest individual to whom he had the most connection.

Ginny Weasely.

How about that? The very little girl he'd been sweet-talking just months before, trying to use her to finish off that insufferable little Potter. His patience had been almost infinite, after spending so many years in silence. 

She had hung on his every word. He'd almost had her, he'd almost been free, and she'd almost swapped him places. But _no_. Potter the Boy Wonder saves the day once again and ruined everything. The only difference in his new host was that he could now see.

Otherwise, there he was once again, nothing but a fading memory.

Meanwhile, of course, Ginny was without a clue. Occasionally, there were hints that she was conscious to his presence. Every now and then she'd hear a sigh that wasn't her own and looked around to see an empty corridor. Sometimes, she'd be all by herself in her bedroom after hours, she'd whisper silently to him in the night air as she rocked back and forth and hugged her knees to her chest.

"Tom? Are you still there?"

He never answered. He'd already played out his hand with her. He'd already lost her trust. He couldn't really control her if she didn't comply because she was in control now. She could simply ignore him. At any moment, in fact, she could dispel him from her body and send him back out for a new host.

There was, however, no such luck since she didn't know he was there. Even so, she wouldn't know what to do.

But someday, someday soon, things would ultimately turn.

And a fading memory would have his chance once again.

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Well, thanks for reading. Please tell me what you think so far. I'll try to update asap if you like it. 


	2. And So It Began

A/N: I would first like to thank my reviewers on the prologue: Elektra, Midnight, Lily Taylor, gibson girl (the challenger), alyse, silent reader and one who is dubbed "I'm just me". I really appreciate your comments. Go enjoy my other stories because no one else is (except RoseFyre and Elektra). Go on, enjoy :)...yeah, things are becoming a bit frustrating around here. My aunt gets on my nerves and she won't leave, never leaves, and needs to leave...so yeah, putting in a word or two brightens my day considerably. Thanks. *clears throat* Anyway:   
  
The first chapter. I still wasn't really sure on this one, but we'll see... Ginny's in her fifth year. In this part, we learn a little more about schizophrenia and what's going inside Ginny's head (well, Tom's stuck in there, right?) This also tells where Tom gets his plan from, but not what it is or how it worked, not just yet... Can't say much more than that without ruining some of the story. Well, enjoy. And again, please tell me what you think.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not have the pleasure of owning Harry Potter, nor the asserted lyrics from Fiona Apple's, "Fast As You Can" (fitting for this particular story, no?).   
  
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I let the beast in too soon

I don't know how to live without my hand on his throat

I fight him always and still

Oh darling, it's so sweet

You think you know how crazy

How crazy I am

You say you don't spook easy

You won't go, but I know

And I pray that you will

  


Fast as you can, baby

Run - free yourself of me

Fast as you can...

  
Chapter One   
And So It Begins  
  


Well, it all began during Ginny's fourth year. As mentioned before, Tom was stuck. He was inside her head, tired and powerless. He often chose to ignore her actions, ignore her words. They meant nothing to him now. Most things he heard from her weren't directed at him; therefore, he gained no strength from them. 

Besides - he was too depressed to really care. He still wanted to bring an end to the one who had caused his own end. In his mind, this meant both his creator and the demise of his creator. But he couldn't make her do that. He didn't know how.

He knew he couldn't leave. He had tried and tried and tried again. All he accomplished was giving her a headache.

So what was the use?

He was soon, however, to find motivation and his goal. What he needed now was power.

Things were normal in the beginning.

In the beginning, as according to Ginny, she would wake up and talk to the first person she talked to every morning since the beginning of her fifth year, Rebecca, in the next bed over, and not see her again for most of the day. She would get up, shower, and go down to breakfast, and usually sit next somewhere near Hermione. She would attend her classes, work on her assignments, and spend a perfectly good half of an afternoon gazing at Harry, doing her homework in between glimpses. She would go to bed with good thoughts in her head and high hopes for the future.

So what happened?

Ginny leaned out of her dormitory window Tuesday, which was almost in perfect view range with the Quidditch field. Practice was on. She scanned the field for the seeker, finding him in an instant. Clad in his Quidditch robes and uniforms, broom casually swung over his shoulder… She swooned at him like this almost every morning. The "almost" is simply because practice wasn't everyday. In face, it was Sunday, Tuesday, and Thursday. From 6:00 to 8:00 A.M., 7-9 on Sundays. She memorized the whole schedule within the first week of school, getting up early every morning and making note of when she saw the Gryffindor team on the field. 

She admitted that her obsession with him was only getting worse, but she figured that she wasn't doing anyone harm. So she got up, every Sunday and Tuesday and Thursday morning, and sat on her window seal.

A sudden voice behind her made her jump.

"I think he likes you," whispered Rebecca one morning. Ginny spun around to see her friend standing over her shoulder. She looked at Rebecca in disbelief. How did she always do that, sneak up on people? I'd love to know how to do that.

"Becky," she said silently in alarm. What are you doing awake?"

"What are _you_ doing awake, Gin?" prompted Becky. "Goggling over your favourite celebrity at practice, are we?"

In the dim light of the dawn, Ginny blushed slightly and turned back to the field.

"How did you know it was him?" she demanded quietly.

"To be frank," explained Becky, "If you were staring at anyone else, it would looked at as either lesbianism, incest, or insanity."

Ginny shot her a horrified look.

"Wow, that _is_ frank," she said sarcastically. 

"Oh, I know." 

"But there is Colin Creevey. He's on the team now. See?"

Ginny pointed out the boy, already on his broom and floating up near the goal post.

"Insanity," she said with a smirk. "You don't like Colin, do you?"

Ginny shrugged indifferently. "He's nice, but…"

"He's not Harry?"

"Exactly."

"Oh, I see. So you do this every morning?"

Ginny shook her head, only vaguely listening as Harry mounted his broom. "Only on Sundays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays," she said, a far away expression displayed on her face. "From six to eight, nine to seven on the weekend…"

Becky glanced at her, her dark eyes sparkling from behind her glasses. She then shook her head.

"You're so weird, Ginny."

Ginny wasn't really paying attention, causing her to absently respond, "Thanks."

Becky looked at her strangely and then at the field with her.

"But seriously, I think he might fancy you."

This caught Ginny's regard once more. Her heart skipped a beat. "Really? Why do you think that?"

"Well, you did say he asked you to the ball, didn't you?"

Ginny abruptly became belated. "He did. After Cho turned him down," she said bitterly.

"Okay, well...oh, yeah!" said Becky brightly. "He saved your life, right?"

Ginny's stomach tangled into a knot, thinking back to her days of Tom Riddle. "No, please don't bring up that."

Becky just stared at her curiously. "Why not?" she prompted. "It's over. What are you so afraid of?"

"I just don't..." said Ginny, fruitlessly searching for a way to explain. "You weren't here, you wouldn't understand how bad this really was..."

Becky sighed and changed her gaze to the field. "I still think he likes you."

Despite her friend's efforts to cheer her up, Ginny felt her heart sink.

"No, he doesn't," said Ginny dispiritedly, looking down at the floor. "If he ever did, he obviously doesn't now. He never even talks to me. Not much anymore, at least."

"You don't talk to him that much, either, and you like him," pointed out Rebecca. Ginny shrugged halfheartedly.

"It's different. He can look me in the eyes and breathe at the same time." Again, a sort of dreamy look came over her face. Harry had caught sight of the Snitch and was going after it as fast as his Firebolt would allow, the cool wind of the morning ruffling his already messy hair.

"Just try to talk to him some time," said Becky. "You never know until you try."

After a while, she sighed heavily and finally gave in to her friend's words.

"Okay, maybe one day..."

Becky smiled softly, beginning to retreat to her trunk.

"I'm going to take the shower," said Becky. 

"It's only, like, 6:30," Ginny informed her. 

"More like 7:30," replied Becky. Ginny heard her dig around and remove something cloth-like, closing her trunk afterward.

"I'm next," said Ginny over her shoulder. "Tell me when you get out."

The only sound was the closing of the bathroom door.

"Today, we're going to begin our unit on psychology," announced Professor Jarvis in Medics, waving his wand toward the chalk tray. A piece of chalk moved across the board. The word "psychology" appeared in bold, white letters.

"Study of the human mind that explores what we do and why we do it. The reason behind our emotions, our thoughts, our actions, our words. The things that mold our perceptions of right and wrong, the things that distort them. Now, can anyone name any psychological terms or, perhaps, disorders?"

Many hands went up. Rebecca, on the other side of the room than Ginny in the seat she was assigned to, was always quiet during class. They really didn't talk much, and sometimes, Rebecca wasn't there at all. She had grown up a sickly child, she told Ginny. She often wasn't found in crowds, being very much of an extrovert, despite, in Ginny's opinion, her features like her long, pretty hair, pretty skin and quick-witted nature. Ginny had always wondered why and one time even asked. Becky just shrugged.

Becky was a new student, a transfer from a smaller wizarding school in Ireland, the Shannon academy. She'd only been there since the beginning of the year. All the other girls in her dormitory pretty much ignored her and sometimes gave Ginny funny looks when she hung out with her or talked to her during the morning. She didn't see anything wrong. Maybe they were just jealous because she was better looking, like a Cinderella type situation. 

_Hmm… That's a psychological term._

Her hand raised as well.

"Miss Weasley?" said Professor Jarvis.

"Jealously?"

"Very good. Any others?"

Several other students spoke out as well.

"Greed," said one girl in the front.

"Pride," said a boy to the left of the girl.

"Lust!" said a boy nearer to the back. The class roared with laughter.

"Yes, that's one," said Professor Jarvis, shaking his head with a smile. "Any others outside the seven deadly sins?"

"Depression," said another girl.

"Excellent. What else?"

"Mania."

"Manic depression."

"Anorexia and bulimia."

"Schizophrenia."

"Multiple personality."

The boy who'd said "schizophrenia" gave the girl who said "multiple personality" a look. 

"Schizophrenia and multiple personality are the same thing, Daphne," he teased. Daphne glared in his direction.

"No, Tim, they are not," corrected Professor Jarvis. "Does anyone know the difference between the two?"

Daphne's hand went up.

"The difference is that people with multiple personalities think they're several different people," explained Daphne. "Schizophrenics tend to have hallucinations. To them, the extra people they see respond like normal human beings, though they're not really there."

"Very good. Another similar situation would apply to, say, dyslexia and ADD. Individuals with ADD have trouble paying attention, while dyslexics have trouble learning and comprehending things. We'll be learning about things like that. We'll look into phobias, also."

Now, it is time to explore the matter of schizophrenia a little, which gets Ginny into all of this trouble in the first place. Sooner or later, she would be convinced she was suffering from this disease, trying to block out the extras that weren't supposed to be there. True, the extras were not supposed to be there, but a schizophrenic Ginny was not.

Schizophrenia is a very serious illness of the mind. It often involves hallucinations and delusions, or seeing and hearing things that are not there. Disordered thinking and emotions and a withdrawal from reality can also characterize it.

And one day, in her fourth year, this disease was attached to a rumour about Ravenclaw Cho Chang. It was later proven to be false. But not before giving Tom Riddle a brilliant, brilliant idea which, once again, almost brought young Ginny to her demise. It was almost certain the Tom would surely be repeatedly hitting himself in the head if it weren't for his lack of hands.

_Schizophrenia. Why didn't I think of that? It's perfect!_

And so begins this twisted little tale.

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And there you are, the first chapter. Hoped you liked it. Thanks for reading. Please feel free to review. *looks hintfully at dropbox*  
  



	3. Pleasant Surprises

  
  
A/N: Okay, first off, thanks to all who reviewed the story so far (I'd list the names like I normally do, but I have homework to do). To one of my reviewers: yes, I know I could've made it more interesting from Tom's POV. But there's a reason why I couldn't. You'll probably see why later on...  
  
This is the second installment of the story... Just keep reading, you'll begin to see what's going on sooner or later. I'm not absolutely certain if this will be a long story. But yeah, in this part, Harry actually enters the story. A few hints of R/Hr, too. Well, please read and review before I flip out about the few grammatical erros and change some things around. Enjoy.  
  
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Chapter Two  
Pleasant Surprises  
  


As usual on a Hogsmeade weekend, Ginny went on her way to Hogsmeade, finished with all of her homework and that rather long chapter on psychological disorders. She was striving to swipe the Prefect title from her roommate, Daphne. The things she read were all very interesting - to some extent, fascinating - but all those big words (not that she was stupid, mind you) were starting to hurt her eyes. She was very happy when she was finally able to close her book and journey to her favorite store.

Gladrags Wizardwear.

Like most girls her age, or like most girls in general, she loved to shop for clothes. Hmm... rephrase that: Like most girls, she loved to shop for clothes and return them the next day. Especially those velvet and satin ones. Those were the best of them all. She couldn't afford them in her third year, when she first visited Hogsmeade, but then Fred and George made an out-of-the-blue effort on her birthday. They were very generous, to say the least. She still didn't have enough to keep the robes she bought and have some left over, but still...

When she got to the store, she browsed the formal section due to the upcoming ball on Christmas, though still without a date. She did, however, have so just in case…

She eyed the articles of clothing carefully.

"Purple, no…" she mumbled quietly to herself, coming across some royal purple dress robes. "Gold, no… Red, _no_… Black…?"

She pulled out the black satin dress robes. Glancing at a nearby mirror, she held the robes up to her body to see how it looked. Her eyebrows scrunched together in deep thought.

_Maybe..._

"No," said a familiar voice from nearby, as if reading her thoughts. She looked to see Rebecca. Ginny's expression of concentration didn't change. 

"It's not your color," Rebecca went on to say. "It clashes with the bright red hair."

"How do you do that?" implored Ginny. "Popping up here and there?"

"Practice," she said shortly, staring at some velvet, midnight blue robes. She took them off the hook and handed them to Ginny. Her eyebrows went up. They were beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. Almost breathtaking. 

Replacing the black satins, she took the blue velvets from her friend. As with the black robes, she held it to her body. Slowly, she smiled.

"I like them," said Rebecca, leaning against the wall and watching.

"I love them," said Ginny softly. "They're perfect."

She located the tag on the right sleeve, wincing slightly. Fifteen Galleons. 

"I have just enough..." She glanced back in the mirror and sighed, giving in. "But I'll take them. I mean, I can just bring them back later on, right?" Her gaze turned briefly on Becky, who wasn't bothering to explore the rack.

"Aren't you getting anything, Becky?" asked Ginny curiously.

Rebecca slowly shook her head. "I'm not going to the ball this Christmas. I'll probably just sleep in… I was looking for you, actually."

"For anything in particular?" asked Ginny.

"I just wanted to see if…" she looked around a bit before continuing in a lower voice. "Did you talk to Harry yet?"

Ginny rolled her eyes wearily with a blunt sigh. "You've been asking me that for the past -" She paused to count the days on her fingers - "week! Why are you so worried about it?"

Becky bit her lip gently. She was worried about it, but why she was worried about it she didn't think she could say. She sometimes saw what Ginny didn't see - the way Harry looked at Cho. She didn't want Ginny to wait so long to talk to him, which would lead to Becky watching once more as Ginny moped around the corridors. So instead, she just shrugged and said something else.

"I just think…I don't know. You two would make a really cute couple, that's all."

Ginny looked at her oddly before glancing back in the mirror.

"Give me a little time," she said. "I still don't know where to begin."

"Just...I don't know, say 'hi' or something," tried Becky.

"Oh, yeah, that'll work," said Ginny sarcastically. "That's what I can do. I'll just go up to him tomorrow and say, 'Hi, Harry! I've been stalking you for the past five years! Let's have a drink!' Then we'll be best friends forever."

Rebecca chuckled, focusing on something behind Ginny.

"I don't think you have to wait until tomorrow," she whispered with laughing eyes. Ginny stared at her, a bit puzzled. But then she realized what she meant.

"You're joking," she said seriously, staring directly forward into the mirror. Her face was colorless. Rebecca's reflection slowly shook her head. Ginny's heart stood still as she looked to her side. 

_Oh, shit._

Harry stood at the next clothes rack, looking at her with raised eyebrows.

Ginny was pretty sure she looked very stupid right now, simply staring at him with wide, wide eyes. Too shocked to really keep a hang on the robes she still had in her hands, they dropped to the ground. With a small gasp, she quickly bent down to pick them up and put them back on the rack. She tried hard not to concentrate on Becky or the fact that she'd unknowingly confessed her strange fascination _to_ her strange fascination. 

Well, she hoped not, at least.

She then forced what she hoped was an offhand expression onto her face, though she was positive she was blushing profusely right now, and smiled weakly.

"Hi, Harry," she said quietly, crossing her arms over her chest nervously. She felt her heartbeat speeding a little as a head-rush came over her. She leaned against the wall behind her for support, not trusting her legs to hold her up for too long.

"Hello, Ginny," he said with a small smile. "How are you?"

"I'm okay," she said. Not daring to look into the mirror, she looked down at the floor, trying to believe her words. "I'm okay," she repeated. "You?"

"I'm good," he said with a small nod.

"So..." said Ginny, absently making a slight kicking motion with her foot. "Did you hear what I said or do I have to repeat myself?" she mumbled.

He could feel Harry's puzzled eyes on her. "Huh?"

Ginny eyebrows raised slightly at first, but then she relaxed and smiled a little in relief. "Nothing."

There was an awkward pause. Ginny's eyes remained on the floor for a little while before remembering Becky was quietly sitting behind her.

"Oh, yes…" she said, about to turn to introduce the other girl. "Have you met Becky, Harry --" She stopped suddenly.

She turned around to show who she was talking about to find her gone. Her back to him, he didn't see her surprised expression, simply responding with, "No. Where is she?"

Ginny laughed in disbelief. "She was just here," she said with a smirk. "I swear, that girl's always disappearing when I need her the most... Did I just say that?"

Harry just smiled warmly. "Don't worry about it," he said.

She looked at him with a combination of wonder and alarm.

_He knows! _said a voice inside her head._ He _knows_!_

**_Well, of course he knows!_** said another voice. **_He's always known that; you used to run out when he was in the same room!_**

Yeah, well… Shut up!

"About what?" said Ginny inquisitively.

**__**

"Er… introducing me to the girl, Becky," he said, thinking it had been implied. 

"Oh," said Ginny with another weak smile. "Okay."

"Who is she, exactly?" asked Harry, causing Ginny to come out of her trance.

"Um, she's in my dormitory," she answered silently. "She sleeps in the bed next to mine. We hang out sometimes."

"Really?" he said, with raised eyebrows. "I've never seen her around."

Ginny looked at him curiously before continuing. "She's not a very social person," she explained. "She doesn't like crowds. I'm surprised I even ran into her. She just came in to --" she stopped again to reword the rest of her sentence -- "to ask me about our...Transfiguration project. We're partners."

Harry nodded a bit. During another short pause, she noticed Harry was carrying a few shopping bags, including a medium-sized gift box in his hands.

"What's that?" she asked, staring at the box. 

"This?" he said, regarding it briefly. "Oh, I was just doing some early Christmas shopping."

"Smart thing to do," commented Ginny, hoping to inspire some type of conversation with her favourite person. "I still have to get started. I was thinking about starting today, but I kind of got sidetracked..." she said, pulling out the blue robes a little ways.

"I know what you mean," said Harry. "I saw some of those canary creams in Zonko's and just about had a field day."

They both laughed.

"Yeah, Fred and George have been quite successful lately," she said with a smirk. "Even with those stupid fake wands. Though that was pretty funny when they fooled Mum with one that one time."

"They're not _that_ stupid, the fake wands," said Harry matter-of-factly. "They fooled Ron too."

"That's because Ron is easy," scoffed Ginny. "Last Easter, I noticed that a unusually large amount was missing from my candy. So to see who was doing it, I placed a Ton-Tongue Toffee in with my Every Flavor Beans and waited. And sure enough…well, do I really have to explain what happened there?"

"Fred and George gave a few of those to my cousin one time," said Harry. "Luckily, we were already leaving when my aunt and uncle actually came after them. Priceless moment, priceless."

Ginny smiled. "Memories," she said softly.

"Memories," repeated Harry, with a faraway look on his face. Ginny laughed a bit.

"If only there was a camera around..."

"Well, where you find me, you usually also find Colin," said Harry in a mix of dullness and humour.

_Oh, I know,_ thought Ginny, who was grinning on the inside. Steadily, she felt the awkwardness melt away.

"Don't worry," she said encouragingly. "When you become a world-famous Seeker, you'll have personal bodyguards."

Harry smiled in a humble manner, looking into her eyes. She stared back, still bracing herself on the wall. They held each other's gaze for just a little while longer before she looked down at the floor.

"Well," said Harry finally, "I should probably get these wrapped before Ron and Hermione get in." He nodded to the couple sitting near the front of the Three Broomsticks. Ginny glanced looked back to see Ron and Hermione through the window, talking over a glass of butterbeer. 

"I could either say, 'aw', or I could say, 'ew'," said Ginny, feeling conflicted as she stared at her friend and her brother. "Can't decide."

"Again, I know what you mean," said Harry with a slight wince. He sighed and began to head toward the door.

"I'll see you in the tower," he said, glancing once more over his shoulder.

"Okay," said Ginny. "Bye."

"Bye." With that, Ginny watched as he disappeared beyond the door and started down the street, a warm feeling flooding through her veins.

Just as he did leave, Ginny was startled when a pair of hands clapsed themselves over her eyes. 

"Guess who?" said a playful voice.

"Rebecca!" murmured Ginny with clenched teeth. Becky moved her hands from her head and Ginny twirled around and began hitting her with her coin purse. Becky blocked and dodged from her swings.

"Why did you do that?" she said in mock anger. She stopped immediately upon seeing the old store clerk giving her an odd stare. She straightened and went scarlet.

"Sorry," she whispered. The clerk turned back to her register, clicking her tongue and muttering. Ginny turned to Becky, who turned to Ginny as well, sniggering with her for a moment before Ginny proceeded to pick out the midnight blue robes once again.

"Where were you?" asked Ginny.

"I was hiding inside of that clothing rack," said Becky simply, pointing to the rack on the right of the one Ginny had been at. Ginny shook her head, about to head toward the register.

"You'd better still be here when I'm done," said Ginny warningly.

"I will," said Rebecca, grinning knowingly at her friend. "But really, you did great."

"Thanks."

_Not long now,_ thought Rebecca, watching as Ginny paid for her robes. _Not long now._

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Well, you have sat through another "eventful" chapter. Congrats. If there are any mistakes or errors (like I said, I have homework, so I'm going kind of quick), feel free to tell me. Thanks for reading.  
  



	4. Life Is Beautiful

  
  
A/N: And here it is: the third chapter. Much thanks to Sharon for beta-reading this one. Also, my reviewers: civateteo, M, Imp, gibson girl, SugaRushin4HP (why didn't i think of this name?), FredrickWeasley, Sache8, Elektra, and Poison Tears, Ginny, eleven sapphire, angelic01 and Butterflygurl. Wow, that's a lot of people.  
  
Another brief note: my other fanfic, "Loose Screws," is suffering greatly. Not so much in reviews, but in readers. I've noticed a lot of people have removed it from their favorite's list... I'm just saying to go check it out, tell me if I should continue because I've spent a lot of time on that one (I already have the Christmas portion of it written up, plus some of the ending; it should be going quicker soon). Thank you.   
  
Okay, enough of my moping, back to this story. This one's a cliffhanger. We see more of Harry and less of Rebecca. I can see by your reviews that this Rebecca character is getting kind of suspicious...  
  
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I may be soft in your palm

But I'll soon grow hungry for a fight

And I will not let you win

My pretty mouth will frame the phrases

That will disprove your faith in man

So if you catch me trying to 

Find my way into your heart

From under your skin

  


Fast as you can, baby

Scratch me out, free yourself 

Fast as you can

  
Chapter Three  
Life Is Beautiful  
  


"But seriously, why did you disappear on me?" asked Ginny late that night, sitting up with Rebecca in her bed. "I was going to introduce you." She shrugged.

"I guess I just thought you needed some privacy," she said earnestly. "I know how much you like him, Gin. I don't want to interfere."

"Says the girl who kept going, 'Talk to him! Talk to him! Talk to him!' over and over again."

"It worked, didn't it?" said Becky matter-of-factly. 

"I swear I could still hear you in my sleep," said Ginny, ignoring Becky. "You just wouldn't stop until I did something..." she paused and exhaled gently. "Thanks," she added.

Becky smiled modestly. "What are friends for?"

"So anyway, we did talk a little," began Ginny. "About nothing, really. He said he was Christmas shopping, and I said I was going to start today but got sidetracked, and then he told me about how he found some Canary Creams in Zonko's - you know, I told you about how my brothers invented pranks and things like that?"

"Yeah," said Rebecca, nodding.

"And then I told him about that one Easter when Ron ate that Ton-Tongue Toffee - I told you about that one too, right?"

She nodded with a smile. "And his tongue turned purple and grew, like, two feet?"

"Yeah," said Ginny, laughing. "He was stuck that way for...an hour or two, I believe. That was so funny... Where was I? Oh yeah, so then he said that Fred and George did the same thing to his cousin and then --"

"Ginny, you forget one thing," interjected Rebecca, eyes sparkling. "I was hiding in a nearby clothes rack. _I could hear you_."

"Right, of course…" said Ginny, somewhat, embarrassed. "But still…" she fell back on her bed with a deeply contented sigh. 

"Maybe you were right," she said softly. "Maybe he really does like me. Maybe he was just afraid to talk to me or something… Well, I don't know about that one." She stared vacantly up at the ceiling, a smile slowly forming on her face.

"Maybe something could happen soon," she whispered.

Rebecca rose from Ginny's bed, stretching before climbing into her own. 

"Maybe," she said quietly, laying her head on her pillow. "'Night, Gin."

"Night, Beck."

Ginny woke again on yet another normal morning. However, this one was different somehow.

Well, that's the way it always seems at the start of winter holiday, especially when it starts early. You often don't know why you feel that way. Perhaps it's just the way that the sun wakes you up with a soft, warm touch; maybe it's the fact that you're free for the day, no work and all play if you please. Or possibly, it's knowing something wonderful, absolutely wonderful, is bound to happen and you just can't wait.

Either way, life is beautiful. Everything you see: lovely, brilliant. Just…beautiful.

And Ginny woke up early that morning before everyone else and excitedly jumped right out of bed, not very worried with the cold air and the freezing floors beneath her feet. Or the overcast skies and the snow that ceaselessly fell to the ground. Or the fact that she still had a Transfiguration project to be completed by the end of winter holidays.

After all, the warm water of the shower would ease her chills, and her coats would keep her warm in the outdoors, and they had upwards of two weeks to do the project. Right now, these things just didn't matter. What _did_ matter was something else entirely.

She quickly showered and dressed, going down to the Great Hall afterward for breakfast. As usual, she sat with the four other girls in her dormitory. She ate quietly, occasionally sneaking glimpses at Harry. Once, he caught her looking. After a moment, they both turned away, blushing. The girls around her giggled while her brother gave Harry a suspicious look.

After she finished with breakfast, she then headed off to Hogsmeade to begin her Christmas shopping as she had "planned" to do a few days before. Needless to say, the first place she went was Zonko's.

She explored the many isles, finding many things of interest, including Filibuster Fireworks, decks of Exploding Snap, and even her brother's fake wands. No Canary Creams.

"They're in the candy section," said a voice behind her. She jumped and whirled around. There stood..._Harry?_ At first, like last time she found him standing near her, she was utterly speechless.

"You'll also find the Ton-Tongue Toffees there, as well as any food products that Fred and George have invented."

She just stared at him, flabbergasted. 

"How did you know all that?" she asked in disbelief.

He shrugged. "Wild guess," he replied with smiling eyes. Ginny felt a tingling in her cheeks and looked away, smiling sheepishly as she thought back to breakfast.

"Sorry about that," she said quietly.

He glanced at her with a puzzled look. "About what?"

She blushed even deeper. 

"Breakfast?" she tried. "I mean..." She exhaled deeply. "I saw the look that Ron gave you when you looked back at me..."

It was now Harry's turn to blush, his skin reddening just a little.

"Yeah..." he said somewhat archly, also looking away. Ginny began to add on, seeing his expression.

"Really, if I've made you uncomfortable, I'm --"

"No," said Harry abruptly. Ginny looked at him, slightly taken aback.

"I mean... No, you didn't make me uncomfortable. And no, Ron didn't hurt me. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here talking to you."

He smiled at her briefly before returning his gaze to the floor. Ginny, feeling braver now, was the one to break the silence this time.

"What are you here for?" she asked.

"Oh! Right," said Harry, apparently having forgotten why he was there. Nonchalantly, he reached behind her and picked up a package of Filibuster Fireworks. She could just barely feel his breath on her shoulder as he did so. Her breath caught in her throat for a brief moment.

Not looking at her, he absently bounced the package in his hands.

"Still Christmas shopping," he said silently. She looked at the fireworks for a second.

"Oh. Well, me too..." she said. "But I think that someone knows what they were getting."

"If it makes any difference, I've gotten quite good on acting surprised."

Ginny smiled slightly at him, looking up into his warm, green eyes. In that simple movement, everything seemed to still, but she willed herself to talk all the same.

"I'll see what I can do," she managed, though in a register higher than normal.

"Thanks." He suddenly became aware that he still had the fireworks in his hand.

"I should probably go pay for these," he said, taking a step backwards away from her.

"Alright," she said, another sheepish smile coming on her face. "I should probably go get those Canary Creams..." With some difficulty, she turned and headed to the candy isle. Once she was out of sight, she was smiling broadly to herself. Absently, she picked up a box full of Canary Creams, all the while thinking of Harry's eyes and how they had bored into her for only a few, precious seconds.

_Those beautiful, beautiful eyes..._ She felt a small chill go through her spine.

__

But she noticed something different about him just then. A different look in his eye, a difference in the way he acted, a difference in the things he said to her... She couldn't tell. It was a bit scary.

But whatever it was, she kind of liked it.

She then carried the box over to the cashier, her arms straining under its weight. She had to admit: arms were not her strong point.

But hey, this is for Harry.

So she managed to get it out of the isle anyway. And to see that Harry was still there. She raised a curious eyebrow.

"Did you already buy the fireworks?" she asked him, heading to the line. He looked down at them momentarily.

"Yeah," he said shortly. "I'm going to the Three Broomsticks to meet Ron and Hermione, actually. I just thought you might want to come."

She simply stared at him, to taken aback to process his last comment. He was going to the Three Broomsticks. He thought she might want to come. So he's waiting for her. Unable to talk, she simply nodded. He smiled kindly, surprising her yet again as he took the Canary Creams out of her hands. A bit dumbfounded, she glanced at him again before turning away, going scarlet once more.

This was before he teasingly said, "These aren't _that_ heavy," and handing them back. She almost dropped them. She huffed in mock indignation.

"Yes, they are," said Ginny, her arms loosely hanging onto the box. "Arms are not my strong point."

Chuckling, he helped get them onto the counter to pay for them. A while after she did, they were walking down the street to the Three Broomsticks. Seeing Ginny still slouching under the weight of the box, he took it from her once again, placing it his bag with the fireworks. He didn't hand them back this time.

"Thanks," she said shyly.

"You're welcome," he said, matching her tone. Another thought entered her mind.

"Harry?"

He looked sideways at her to show he was listening.

"How did you know I was getting those?"

He shrugged, as he did last time. "I remember mentioning that I saw them in Zonko's..." he said. "Apparently, so did you."

Ginny looked at the ground, blushing yet again. _Why can't I make it stop?_ He continued.

"And you know, you can probably sit in the bleachers during Quidditch practice."

That certainly stopped the blushing. For a little while, anyway. Her eyes widening, she stared at him, open-mouthed. He knew that?

"You saw me?!" she exclaimed incredulously.

"Yeah, last week," he said in a comical tone. Her eyes widened even more in realization.

"I thought you were looking at Colin!"

"Why would I want to look at Colin?" joked Harry. "He might catch me off guard and snap a photo of me."

"Oh, my God…" she mumbled, covering her face in her hands. "Is that the only time you saw me? I'm sorry about that --" 

"No, it's okay," he said reassuringly. "I didn't mind. Really, I didn't."

She removed her face from her hands, revealing her bright red face.

"You don't?"

"Not really," he said honestly. "It's actually kind of flattering, if you don't mind me saying so." Ginny laughed at his smug expression and then raised an eyebrow.

"How do you know I was looking at you?" she said cunningly. He looked back at her. 

"Are you implying that you were goggling at Ron or Colin?" he replied cleverly.

"Ron, _no_," she replied with a snort. "Colin…maybe." Harry stared at her for a moment before looking forward with a grin on his face.

"You were _not_," he said defiantly. Impishly, he ruffled her hair a little. She huffed, pushing his hand from her head with a chortle and beginning to smooth her hair back to its desired placement. She then proceeded to do the same to him, finding it was probably no use since his hair was always in disarray and today was no exception.

"That's not fair!" she exclaimed. "Yours is already messed up!"

"That's the best part of it," he said teasingly. She glared on the outside, but on the inside – as always – she was smiling broadly.

Soon, they arrived at the Three Broomsticks. Again, Ron's eyes doubtfully fell upon Harry and how he was walking in with his little sister in tow, but he later shrugged it off and asked what was in the bag.

After lunch, she left from Hogsmeade and as soon as the other three were out of sight, she ran all the way back to the castle.

_Becky's not going to believe this!_

The moment she reached her dormitory, she was completely out of breath, panting very heavily. Rebecca wasn't there, like she usually was. Ginny let out a small groan of frustration, then heading back down the steps. Exiting her dormitory and heading for the library, she sooner or later ran into Daphne, the Prefect in her dormitory. Usually, this would upset Ginny, but under these circumstances, she swallowed her pride and went up to her. Bravely, she tapped on Daphne's shoulder. Daphne turned around to face her, seeming considerably surprised to see Ginny there, slouching and trying to catch her breath.

"Ginny," she said in vague alarm. "What is it?"

Ginny just sort of shook her head, waving a dismissive hand. "It's nothing. I'm just trying to find Rebecca. Do you know where she is?"

Daphne gave her nothing more than a confused glance and a simple sentence that threw Ginny off completely.

"Who's Rebecca?"

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Oooooooooohhhhh...... This Rebecca character _is_ getting rahter suspicious. Well, thanks for reading. And don't forget to look at my other story, "Loose Screws". I really need to know if I should keep writing that one.  
  



	5. Born under a Bad Star

  
  
A/N: Thank you Skade (beta-reader, everyone say 'hi'), Josephine, civateteo, Sache8, Elektra, gibson girl, and Fredrick. Hope I got everyone there.   
  
Okay, it took a little while to get this one out, but it's here now :). I've been hearing a lot of comparisons to "A Beautiful Mind", or a movie I've never gotten around to seeing. Tell me more. Anyway, I've been very busy with the revision of my other story (which was probably a waste of time, since there's still no one reading), but I've decided to just put up what I have and continue on it after I finish this story. BTW, if you reviewed it before, I kind of, er...lost the reviews. Sorry about that.  
  
Well, in this chapter, we have some angsty!Ginny. Fun, fun, fun! But all is well with the world when Harry knocks on her dormitory door...okay, 'all' might be a _strong_ word... And you know how I love those cliffhangers. And how I love feedback. He he, Enjoy.  
  
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Chapter Four  
Born under a Bad Star  


"She's in our dormitory," said Ginny, as though it were obvious. "She sleeps in the bed next to mine."

"Oh, you mean Stephanie?" suggested Daphne. Ginny shook her head.

"The other bed."

Daphne blinked. "Er, Gin, no one's in that bed."

"No, you don't understand," she responded. "Rebecca sleeps in that bed. She transferred here this year from Shannon, remember?"

"No," said Daphne, looking at Ginny carefully. 

"Well, she gets sick a lot," she explained. "Maybe that's why you don't see her that much --"

"There's still only four girls in our dormitory, and there were no transfers this year. I don't know who this Rebecca is, but she's not a fourth-year Gryffindor."

Ginny could see this was going nowhere fast. Looking back at her with a curious expression of her own, she said, "Never mind," and headed back to her dormitory to see if Rebecca had returned. Arriving there, she slowly creaked open the door and peeked inside. Her brow furrowed. 

_Okay, that was weird._

She could see Rebecca lying in bed, as clear as day. Awfully pale, she shielded her face from the light coming in through the window. 

_Perhaps it was just Daphne,_ she thought.

She walked up to Becky's bedside, looked down on her carefully. She didn't look well at all.

"Becky?" whispered Ginny as she gently shook her awake, noting how cold her skin was. Rebecca stirred and groaned, a grimace on her face. After she rubbed some of the sleep out of her eyes, she slowly opened her eyes to look at Ginny. She then squeezed them back shut against the light.

"Hey, Gin," she said in a scratchy, almost incoherent voice.

"Hey," she said softly. "How you feeling?"

Ginny could make out her shrugging shoulders from beneath the sheets. 

"My annual winter cold has kicked in," she said in a slightly clearer tone. She stopped short of her last word and coughed a little. 

"You weren't here a few moments ago when I can in to find you," said Ginny.

"Bathroom," said Becky shortly. She squinted up at Ginny again.

"You look well today," she commented, seeing how Ginny's face still glowed.

"Yeah," she said, turning a bit more red but calming immediately. "But I have something else to tell you. It's about Daphne."

Rebecca's eyebrow scrunched. Ginny continued.

"I was looking for you and I asked you where you were... And she's never heard of you."

Becky's eyebrows briefly rose and lowered. "Why doesn't this surprise me?" she muttered bitterly.

"Not what you think, not exactly. She's never heard of you, she's never seen you. In her opinion, you don't exist."

Eyebrow scrunched again, she stared at Ginny.

"As in, she can't see me?"

Ginny nodded.

"How bizarre," said Rebecca quietly. "I remember existing the last time I checked."

"I know," said Ginny in agreement. "I think maybe she's seeing things. Or _not_ seeing things, for that matter. Do you think she might be...I don't know...sick?"

Ginny watched silently as Becky managed to sit up, depending wholly on the headboard of her bed.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Like, some kind of neurological problem. I was going to ask her more questions, but I heard those people can sometimes, you know...lash out at you if you make the wrong move... You remember, we had to read that long chapter on psychological disorders? Wow, that was only - what, a last week or so? What a coincidence. And she was normal last year."

Becky stared at her for a moment before responding.

"Delusional, perhaps?"

Ginny thought for a moment, shrugging. In the back of her mind, she hoped so and believed so, but this might have been influenced by her overall dislike of her. Besides, she wasn't really sure. It was very implausible, but maybe Rebecca was simply overlooked.

_It's _Daphne_, after all, too narcissistic and too popular to really care,_ thought Ginny bitterly. 

"Maybe you were just overlooked," she said quietly. "Daphne has a way of doing that." She gave Becky a sympathetic smile. Becky stared back at her dubiously.

"Yeah, but I've been here for half the year already..." It was silent for a moment before she spoke again. "Well, I know enough to see you don't like Daphne very much --"

"I don't like her at all," said Ginny icily.

"Well, I know why _I_ don't like her," said Becky matter-of-factly, "but I've never been able to figure out why _you_ didn't like her."

"Oh, yes, I'm sure it's hard not to like brilliant, lovely, popular, date-able, Prefect Daphne with her deep blue eyes and her full, blond hair. As opposed to my freckled skin, flaming red hair and my lovely secondhand robes," she finished sarcastically.

Becky smirked. "I see your point. Perfect people are so annoying."

"Here, here. And you know," said Ginny, getting worked up over the new topic, "I worked so damn hard last year for that damn Prefect title. What good did it do? I'm the runner-up. If anything should happen to Daphne - which I doubt anything will - I take over." She scoffed. "I'm sure the girl's never broken a bone in her perfect little body." She stopped and sighed, absently fiddling with a strand of her hair. Becky looked at her in wonder.

"Wow," she said in awe. "Rarely do I see a display of your colorful vocabulary. You really don't like her, do you?"

"I hate her," she said, her tone darker. "It's as if she overshadows every little thing I do, every little thing anyone does. Sometimes I wish she would just...gracefully step aside and let someone else have a try. And when that happens, I want people to see me for what I am and not...not for what I should be, you know?"

Rebecca's gaze on her changed slightly on the last line, becoming somewhat softer. She knew what she meant. Oh, she knew too well. After a moment, she responded.

"I think someone already does," she said softly. "You left him back in Hogsmeade." Ginny stared at her curiously. 

"You weren't born under a bad star like me," Becky continued faintly with a small note of sadness. "Your day will come one day."

Ginny smiled softly. So now she was convinced that Daphne was the one with the problem.

"So will yours, Beck," she said kindly. "Someday."

Becky smiled back as well.

"So do you want anything for that cold?" said Ginny, getting up from her bed.

Becky shook her head modestly. "I'll be fine. Just tell me how your day with Harry is so far."

Ginny looked at her with a bewildered expression. "How do you do that?" she said, now completely puzzled to how she was so predictable all of a sudden.

"It's all in the face," said Becky simply. "You were practically glowing just a few minutes ago: well, before Daphne was brought up. Really, I haven't seen you that happy since... Well, I've never seen you this happy."

"Probably because I've never been this happy," said Ginny, distantly staring out of the window. 

"Today was good?"

"Today was great. Let's see... First, I went to Zonko's to get Harry's present, looking for the Canary Creams. Then, out of nowhere, there he is, standing behind me --" Ginny stopped suddenly, her expression turning to one of slight panic. 

She looked across her bed and realized something was missing. Quickly, she dropped to the ground and looked under the bed. Rebecca looked at her, concerned.

"What is it?" she asked curiously.

"The Canary Creams..." said Ginny incoherently, coming back up to look on her bed again. "Oh, no. I must have left them at the Three Broomsticks! I paid two Galleons for that --"

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Ginny and Rebecca glanced at each other, listening to the faint shuffling outside.

The person knocked again.

"Maybe you should get that," said Rebecca with raised eyebrows.

"Do you think it's..._him_?" she whispered. Rebecca just shrugged and stared at the door.

"Ginny?" said a voice outside the door. "Are you there?"

_Yeah, it's him._

"Er - yeah," said Ginny in a strangled sort of tone, smiling broadly and walking toward the door. "Just a moment."

Hurriedly, she straightened out her shirt and smoothed down her hair. With a deep sigh, she cautiously opened the door. Outside it she found Harry there, holding her discarded shopping bag that contained the Canary Creams and smiling warmly.

"You forgot something," he said quietly, handing her the bag.

"I thought so," she said, her tone matching his. Glancing once more back at Becky (who was giving her an excited thumbs-up), she blushed slightly and took a step outside the dormitory and closed the door behind her.

"Thanks," she murmured, looking absently into the bag at the yellow box.

"You're welcome."

_What to say, what to say..._ Ginny smiled slightly as her eyes darted from the bag to Harry, from him to the floor. She was aware that he was staring; could feel his eyes on her. She cleared her throat somewhat and looked up to meet his eyes.

"You already know who's getting these, right?" she asked, brandishing the bag a bit.

"I'm guessing it was me," he responded with a smirk.

"Right you are. So you can just keep them, I suppose," she said, handing the bag back.

"No, just give them to me on Christmas," he insisted, returning the bag to her yet again. "I told you before: I'm getting better at acting surprised."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Well, since you already know what you're getting," she said suggestively, "could you tell me what I'm getting?"

Harry chuckled. "I can't do that."

"Why not? You know what you're getting."

"Well, yours is still a surprise, and I intend on keeping it that way."

"_Please?_" whined Ginny. "I can act surprised, too, you know."

"That's great, Gin," he said teasingly, about to head down the stairs. "See you at dinner."

"See you," she replied, smiling after his retreating back. When he was out of sight, she reentered her dormitory and grinned widely at Becky, who was looking somewhat healthier all of a sudden.

Maybe from the realization, after Ginny had shaken her awake, that she was no longer intangible.

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_Well_...what did _that_ mean? We shall find out later in the story, but for now, I must leave you, for I haven't eaten yet and I'm desperately hungry. Thanks for reading.  
  



	6. The Greatest Day

A/N: Thank you Imp, Frederick, Persephonie, Eraserhead, gibson girl, Josephine, Sache, and Lazile for your reviews. I feel so special now :*).  
  
And now, at "long" last, the fifth chapter. I'm a bit hesitant to post this right now, but I'm in a bit of a hurry as well, so enjoy. Kind of cute, kind of morbid, and like I said in my profile: big cliffhanger.  
  
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Chapter Five  
The Greatest Day  
  


            Yet another Thursday morning. Ginny sat in her usual place, still too nervous to actually go out and sit in the bleachers like Harry had offered. Becky wasn't able to join her today; though she was looking better, she was still feeling ill and decided to just stay in. Hence, she sat alone at the window, goggling at her favourite celebrity. Only now, he seemed so much more than that. She was beginning to see a future with him. Maybe she was just young, and she was in over her head. Maybe not.

            He watched him as he exited the locker rooms, his broom in his hand. Almost instantly, his head turned and spotted her at her ledge. He grinned up at her, waving slightly. 

            Taken aback, she blushed and meekly waved back. He then beckoned her insistently to come down and watch from the stands. Suddenly spotting Ron, she shook her head fervently and pointed behind him. He turned around just in time to see Ron walking past him onto the field.

            And as he passed, Harry just looked up at her, rolled his eyes, and beckoned her to the field again. Smiling sheepishly, she disappeared from the windowsill and quickly got dressed, careful not to wake the other four. Casting a brief curious glance at Rebecca and then at Daphne, she turned and left the room.

            She was soon walking across the lawn to the bleachers. She tugged at her thin coat against the cold temperature, shivering slightly while she walked through the ankle-deep snow. 

            _Winter. I hate __winter._

            As she took a seat, she saw Harry wave at her again; again, she waved back. She then saw Ron, again had that suspicious look upon his face as he spotted Harry walking up to his little sister. Ginny fought down a laugh and a blush at the same time.

            "You showed up," called out Harry as he came closer. Unsuccessful at her battle, she felt a tingling in her cheeks.

            "You told me to," she countered.

            "Are you saying you didn't want to?" said Harry with a raised eyebrow.

            "I didn't say anything," she said, raising her eyebrows as well.

            Chuckling, they were almost too distracted to hear a loud whistle from above them. Ginny looked up to see Ron on his broom, looking down on them disdainfully.

            "Harry!" he yelled down, not hiding the impatience in his voice. Harry turned and looked up at his best friend. Ron shouted to him again.

            "C'mon! Practice is about to start!"

            Ginny was fairly surprised to see a vague shade of red come across his face, but didn't get her hopes up. It was pretty cold today.

            He turned back to her. "Practice is about to start," he repeated. She smirked softly. 

            "But after it ends," he added on, "just wait for me here, okay?"

            As she nodded, she blushed even deeper. _Blame it on the weather, she thought to herself with ease._

            With that, he walked out to the field, mounted his broom, and kicked off from the ground. Once he met Ron's level, she could see Ron mouth to him: "What were you doing," it looked like.

            Ginny finally couldn't help it and snickered.

            Braving the weather for two hours, she sat through the practice, getting a fairly better view at Harry as he glided through the air above her. Every once in a while he'd wave down at her. At one point he would even wink at her and then look over to see Ron's reaction. 

            Harry didn't think that being near the goal post was the reason the Quaffle swerved so close to his head. 

After he ducked, he looked down at her with smiling eyes. She giggled... Hmm, she did, didn't she? She was one who usually smirked or chuckled; she couldn't remember the last time she'd giggled. Whenever it was, Harry was probably involved.

And Harry had changed so much over the past year. A lot seemed to think he would be a bitter person, with all that happened at the end of his fourth year. But if anything, he had become even more outgoing and had developed quite a sense of humour. Well, that much was obvious.

            Practice was soon over, and the moment Ron had disappeared behind the locker room door, Harry walked up to her, smiling broadly.

            "Did you see his face?" he said, laughing.

            Also laughing, she nodded. "Why did you do that?" she asked him, half scolding and half flattered. 

            "Well, again, did you see his face?"

            They laughed for a few more seconds before Harry spoke again.

            "Well, I've got to go change. You don't mind waiting a few more minutes?"

            Ginny shivered somewhat as a breeze floated by. However, she shook her head in response to the question.

            "Are you cold?" asked Harry, looking at her with mild concern.

            "I'll be fine," said Ginny modestly. "Weasleys are immune to practically everything --"

            "Here," he said, taking off his cloak and handing it to her. "I won't be long."

            This time, her blush went past the red of her hair. She wrapped the heavy cloak around her, already warmed.

            "Thank you," she said demurely.

            Nodding in acknowledgment, he turned and headed to the locker rooms. Ron was then coming out, a suspicious glare still on his face, but decided not to say anything as he passed. She looked curiously after him, but then saw where he was going: Hermione was waiting for him on the steps. 

            _I guess they are __kind __of a cute couple..._

            She waited there ten or so minutes when Harry came back out, dressed in normal attire. She came down from the stands to meet him.

            "Hello again," he said to her good-naturedly.

            "Hi," said Ginny. She began to take off the cloak, about to give it back.

            "Keep it," he said, wrapping it back around her. "I'm not that cold."

            _Damn it, Ginny! Stop blushing!_

            "Well, we have to go inside in a few anyway," she said. "Breakfast is about to start."

            "Let's go in after it starts," said Harry quietly. "Ron doesn't seem to be a big fan to the idea of us hanging out. Don't really know why: it's not like we're dating or anything..."

            Ginny's expression faltered in the slightest. 

            "He might think that we will be," she suggested without much thought. This earned a curious stare from him for a fleeting moment.

            "Well," he said, "either way, you never know when he might be hiding behind one of those doors, waiting to impale me."

            Ginny smiled. "Alright, we'll stay out."   

            Ginny, who had spent most of her time that day wondering around with Harry, only returned to her dormitory once that day (minus turning in for the evening) to check on her friend's condition. But oddly enough, luck was with her today - you know what I mean by _her, I'm sure - and once was all she needed._

            "Do you think Hermione would like this?" asked Ginny, holding out some scarlet robes. Harry shrugged.

            "Personally, I think she'd prefer a book," answered Harry, "but I suppose she'd like that."

            Ginny looked at the robes in concentration, trying to picture them on Hermione. Glancing at the price tag, her concentration was thrown off, and she put them back.

            "Perhaps I'll just get her a book," she said finally. "What did you get her?"

            "A book."

            "I see," she said flatly. "Let's go get Ron's present first."

            "Honeydukes?" guessed Harry.

            "Yep."

            They walked out of Gladrags onto the crowded street. It had gotten colder, the snow on the ground slightly thicker and still falling.

            "We'd better go quick," she said. "It's getting rather dark."

            She was right. The overcast sky was now a deep, obscure gray. As they got closer, Honeyduke's came into view. Like most other places in the village, very crowded.

            "Perhaps we should just come back another time," advised Harry.

            "Yeah."

            The sky became dimmer and dimmer as they journeyed back to the castle, the snow crunching beneath their feet. Harry's faintly chattering teeth caught her attention as they neared their destination, but either way he hesitated going up the steps.

            "I don't want to go inside yet," he said. She stared at him questionably. 

            "Harry, you're freezing," she persuaded. He just stared back, and she sighed.

            She frowned somewhat, beginning to take off the cloak again. He gave her a look.

            "Keep it," he said again. "I just want to stay out for a little while longer."

            "Are you sure?" she said worriedly, buttoning the cloak back up. "Perhaps we should just go inside..."

            "Well, actually, there was something I wanted to ask you before we go inside," said Harry in a lower voice. "You never know when Ron might be hiding behind one of those doors."

            She looked at him oddly. Before, she thought he didn't want to go in because of Ron. "What is it?"

            "Well, would you, er..." he sighed somewhat uncomfortably. "I was wondering...whether you, uh...had a date for the ball?"

            Quite involuntarily, her eyes widened as she looked at him. She could hear her pulse faintly in her ear as she switched her gaze to the frozen marble ground.

            "No," she said, trying to keep her voice in a normal volume. Harry smiled a bit. 

            "Neither do I," he said, also looking away somewhere. This was awfully different. Harry wasn't usually withdrawn around her or anyone except Cho. True, it was surreal, but at the same time, it was kind of...flattering.

            "So...do you want to go with me?" he asked. She looked at him carefully, studying his face. She could sort of tell that he had gone red by the way his teeth had gradually stopped chattering. 

            He seemed to be aware of her gaze and returned it, speaking up again. "Look, I know how upset you were last year, after I asked Cho, but you're the first person I've asked, I swear --"

            "Yes," she said simply, grinning.

            "Really?" said Harry, looking down upon her. "I won't be left moping with Ron in my dormitory again, will I?"

            She smiled. "Colin asked me last time, remember? So yes, I'll go with you," she said reassuringly.

            Simpering, he just responded with, "Okay."

            Ginny broke their gaze to glance at her watch in the dim light that was left.

            "Dinner is starting soon," she informed him. "Should we go in now or should we find some kind of explosive first?"

            "Do you know where we can find some explosives?" said Harry suggestively.

            Becky was fairly surprised to see Ginny come bounding excitedly into the room. She arched an eyebrow at her.

            "Long time, no see," she said with mild humour, staring at Ginny's bright face. Suddenly she stilled and looked at Becky with a serious expression.

            "He asked me," she said lowly. She didn't need to mention what he asked her. There was a small pause, in which Becky's eyebrow shot up.

            "Already?" said Becky emphatically to Ginny, putting her Charms report to the side of her on the bed. She nodded vigorously and then began to bounce up and down. Becky let out a half smirk, a small smile forming across her face.

            "Wow," she said in amazement. "That was fast."

            "I know!" said Ginny between bounces. "This is the greatest day of my life!"

            "Well, come on, out with it," said Becky, patting the bed beside her. "Tell me what happened."

            "I'll tell you on the way to the Great Hall," said Ginny, walking to the door. "Dinner's about to begin." Rebecca remained seated, smile fading slightly.

            "Aren't you coming?" asked Ginny, a bit more subdued as she looked. There was a short silence, in which Becky simply stared absently in at the wall, trying to decide if she should.

            "Rebecca?" she asked carefully. "What's wrong?"

            Finally, Becky shook her head and looked up at Ginny, smiling gently. "Still feeling a bit ill," she said quietly, getting up slowly. "Just a bit of nausea... I'm coming."

            Ginny waited for Becky to meet her at the door and together they exited the dormitory, about to head down the stairs when Becky stumbled with a gasp and almost fell. Instinctively, Ginny caught her by the arm and held her up slightly to keep her from tumbling down the stairs.

            "Careful," cautioned Ginny, letting go of her arm when she regained her balance.

            "Thanks," said Becky gratefully, now holding onto the banister. "That was a close one, huh?"

            "Yeah. Just keep hold of the rail--"

            "Ginny?"

            Ginny looked up at the sound of her name. The muffled voice sounded familiar and close by, but it didn't come from Rebecca. She didn't see anyone else there. But then she heard a door open behind her.

            "Hello?" she called back, glancing around. It was there that she spotted Daphne standing there in the doorway, her hair wet. Ginny fought to keep a casual expression on her face, unable to determine whether to be annoyed or scared.

            "Oh, there you are," said Daphne in slight relief. "I thought I was just hearing things."

            Ginny stared at her for a moment before replying with an anxious chuckle. "You weren't just in there," she said timidly.

            "I was taking a shower," explained Daphne, pushing a strand of her damp hair behind her ear. "And I heard a voice in the next room, and I went to see who was there, and no one was there and… Well, in short, you scared me."

            Ginny just looked from her to Becky, who looked back, and again to Daphne. No one said anything for a few moments. Daphne's brow furrowed.

            "What is it?" she asked. Absently, she looked in the direction in which Ginny had glanced, as if trying to find what she was staring at.

            Ginny swallowed slightly, glancing at Becky one more time and then once more at Daphne.

            "You don't see her?" she asked cautiously. Daphne returned the look.

            "See who?" 

            Ginny's eyes widened in the slightest. "Becky. She's right here," she said slowly as if talking to a small child while she pointing to the girl next to her.

            Daphne's eyes widened as well.

            "Ginny," she said in the same register, "there's no one there."

            "Yes, there is," she said firmly, putting a hand on Becky's shoulder. "I'm touching her shoulder right now."

            Quite steadily and nervously, Daphne approached her, stopping in front of her and holding out her hand to Ginny.

            "You don't look very well," she said softly. "Come with me to Madame Pomfrey."

            As Daphne tried to claim Ginny's hand in hers, Ginny steadily backed away.

            "I'm fine, Daph," said Ginny, her voice shaking a little as she bumped into the railing. "How are you?"

            "It's okay," said Daphne gently, taking one of Ginny's trembling hands. "I'm here to help --"

            This sentence was never finished - in fact, it would be the last one Daphne ever said for quite a while - because Rebecca, who'd been doing some thinking while the other two were talking, had a sudden stroke of genius.

            "She said she's fine," said Rebecca sternly. She stepped forth, grabbed both of their wrists, and roughly yanked them apart. Ginny took a slight step backward when she was released to keep from falling; Daphne, however, was not as lucky.

Again, Ginny instinctively reached out to Daphne, but to no avail. The two girls watched in horror as Daphne tumbled down the stair, little terrified noises escaping her on each bump, until she finally came to a halt on the landing face-up with a rather nasty _crack! Not making a noise, they looked upon her in pure shock for a few seconds, unsure of what to do except see if she would stir._

But she didn't. She did, however, show some small sign of life: breathing.

Becky was the first one to speak up, after looking grimly at the limp body at the foot of the stairs.

"We'll take her to the hospital wing," she said somberly and shakily, walking lethargically down the staircase to the unconscious Daphne. "If they ask, tell them I did it."

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Ah...one can only wonder what happens next. As soon as I finish my projects, perhaps I'll tell you. Well, thanks for reading, and tune in next time ;). 


	7. Don't Cry

A/N: Okay, first off, I'm really, _really_ sorry about posting so late. It's been a pretty hectic(sp?) two weeks, with Christmas stuff, Toejam & Earl™ on Xbox, and sudden death of my aunt (see first chapter).  
  
Second of all, I'd like to thank my reviewers: DarkMoonDragon, Fredrick, Dark-angel, gibson girl, Saturn's Hikari, Sache8, Josephine, elven sapphire, and Mats Forsen.  
  
Btw, Josephine - she didn't know her before. Tom got the idea in her _fourth_ year. It just says that after we meet Rebecca; at that point, I was just sort of writing it, and I forgot to add that into the prologue. Sorry if it was confusing.  
  
Anyway, in this chapter...well, they get to the hospital wing, and something happens to Ginny... It might change actually, and I'm hesistant about posting it (I haven't heard from my beta yet :{), but it's been...*counts on fingers* two weeks. So here it is. *The song will be important later.  
  
Disclaimer: In addition to Harry Potter, I unfortunately do not own "I Will Wait For You" by Astrud Gilberto. Enjoy.  
  
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Chapter Six

Don't Cry

For the first time in what seemed like a long time, Ginny glanced over at her friend as if she were completely out of her mind.

"Becky --" she said, not daring to raise her voice. Becky interrupted.

"No," she said sharply and quietly. Kneeling down, she picked up Daphne's left arm, checking her pulse in her wrist.

"Her pulse is kind of fast," she said absently, dropping the arm abruptly to the ground and preparing to lift her shoulders. "Come give me a hand."

Quite numbly, Ginny pulled out her wand, silently conjured a stretcher, and went to help get Daphne onto it. Still, she retorted.

"You didn't mean to, Becky," Ginny persuaded silently.

"But I did," said Becky sadly, looking at her friend with a serious expression. "Yes, I feel absolutely horrible about it, believe me...but I did it. That's what matters."

"Well..." said Ginny, trying to think something to say. She couldn't just let her best friend go through this type of thing alone. Especially if Daphne really wasn't alright. They were both involved in some way or another; they were in this together, no matter who did what. That's what friends were for.

"Maybe it wasn't all you," said Ginny, voice breaking nervously. Her knees buckled slightly as they picked up the girl and put her on the stretcher. She avoided looking at her face, a serious of small scrapes and one fairly big one scattered across her cheek. "I may have accidentally..._nudged her when getting free --"_

"Ginny, _I pulled you two apart, and __I sent her flying down the stairs!" said Rebecca, seeming to get a bit annoyed. "That's what you tell them."_

Ginny looked at her, somewhat shocked and displeased at her aggravated tone. But there was another thought on her mind.

"What do you mean _I'll tell them?" asked Ginny curiously, using her wand to make the stretcher hover above the ground. "Where will you be? This is no time to be disappearing on me again."_

Becky looked at her, seeming somewhat taken aback. "I just meant that that's the story," she explained, still somewhat put off. "Just tell them the truth, okay?"

Again, they exchanged looks for a long moment. Finally, Ginny sighed with a small nod. 

Not saying anything further, they started out of the tower, looking around corners first to make sure the coast was clear. Unlike so many locations in the castle, Ginny knew the way to the hospital ward by heart, where Harry often ended up at least once a year (and at the end of the year, it was almost guaranteed, Ginny noted). 

And soon enough, she saw that familiar glow coming through ajar doors into the corridor. She looked to her side to see that Becky was still there and felt a twinge of relief.

Walking into the hospital wing, they saw a few others in the beds, most likely sick from some winter illness. Madame Pomfrey was attending one of her patients when they entered and looked up when they did.

If it hadn't been attached to her face, her jaw surely would've fallen to the floor. Her hands instantly covered her mouth as she hurried over.

"Oh, dear!" she gasped, waking a few of the resting patients in the room. Fearing the worst, Ginny gently set the stretcher on the marble ground.

"What happened?" said Madame Pomfrey in utter alarm, frantically checking Daphne's pulse.

"S-she fell down the stairs --" said Ginny, unable to finish before an equally panicky nurse interrupted her.

"Quick, dear," she said, preparing to lift up Daphne's shoulders. "Help me get her onto this bed. Careful...that's right..."

Again, Ginny helped lift the girl off the floor and onto the nearest bed, cautiously setting her down. Still, there wasn't so much as one movement from the still figure, who had become even paler.

Taking her wand out of her robes, Madame Pomfrey quickly muttered "_Lumos," and peeled back Daphne's eyelids, looking at her pupils._

"She fell down the stairs, you say?" said Pomfrey, moving on to the other eye and not waiting for a response. "Did she trip and fall, or...what happened?"

Ginny automatically cast a side-glance at her best friend.

_She's still there._

And slowly, Becky nodded, her face completely series. Ginny sighed dismally and nervously and began to explain.

"Y-you see," she stammered, wringing her robes with languid fingers, "We were outside our dormitory, and she, Daphne, thought I wasn't...that I wasn't feeling well, and she took my hand. Then Becky pulled us apart and she...lost her balance."

Madame Pomfrey shook her head sadly, putting out her wand light and placing her wand on the table beside the bed. Carefully, she turned Daphne onto her side and began examining her neck and back. Gently feeling around the nape of her neck, Madame Pomfrey's forehead creased with worry.

"Oh, dear, this can't be good at all..." she murmured.

Ginny's eyes widened. "What is it?"

"This other girl that you speak of, who was there," asked Madame Pomfrey, looking up, "what was her name?"

She glanced once again at Rebecca, who glanced back at her, looking even paler than before. Ginny decided to speak for her. She cleared her throat.

"Rebecca Cwalino," said Ginny quietly, motioning slightly to Becky. She heard a small, inward sigh from her. "She's a transfer --" She stopped abruptly. All of a sudden, she felt lightheaded. So, so lightheaded. And then, after a few seconds, an intense wave of pain. She clenched her eyes shut in distress.

Faintly she heard Madame Pomfrey's apprehensive voice drift to her ear.

"Ginny?"

She couldn't respond. Her teeth were shut firmly together. Her pulse quickened as the room became warmer.

It only got worse. _What's going on? she thought in utter confusion and shock, her hands instantly on her head and clutching her hair in a vain attempt to stop the aching inside. __What's happening to me?_

The pain continued to surge. It quickly spread from her head to her neck and back, her arms and legs, her chest and stomach. Something like migraines and ulcers and hernias at the same time. She was almost too numb to feel herself collapse to the ground. The new stinging in her body felt like icicles were being driven into her skin.

_Make it stop...  make it stop..._

And then, after what was only a minute but seemed like the longest time, everything went black. She lay on the floor, as motionless as Daphne.

Hours passed. Still, she was unconscious to the things happening around her or to her, aside from those that took place inside her own mind. What happened was news to her; she later guessed, after the nurse told her what happened, that she had hit the ground pretty hard and hit a nerve.

But right now, her head was empty. Blissfully empty. And then, there was a soft, distant humming sound. It slowly became clearer. It was a young girl's voice, and it sounded strangely familiar. Ginny realized the girl was singing, slow and sad. A little while later, the words were more distinct.

_If it takes forever, I will wait for you_

_For a thousand summers, I will wait for you_

_Till you're back beside me, till I'm holding you_

_Till I hear you sigh here in my arms_

Still without sight, Ginny's mental eyebrow raised. She'd been terribly confused for a good portion of the evening, and this made things no different. The girl continued.

_Anywhere you wander, anywhere you go_

_Everyday, remember how I love you so_

_In your heart, believe what in my heart I know_

_That forever more, I'll wait for you_

_The time will tick away the hours, one by one_

_And then the time will come when all the waiting's done_

_The time when you return and find me here and run_

_Straight to my waiting arms..._

Her voice seemed to morph into a deeper tone as it faded back into the darkness. Ginny lay in silence for the rest of the night, never waking meanwhile.

"Is she okay, though?" said another distant, familiar voice much later.

"She seems fine, but I still don't know what's wrong," said another voice, a woman. "Fainting can be applied to almost any illness or condition, but that's really the only symptom of...of _anything that we can detect right now. But if you could please just..." _

The woman trailed off as Ginny's eyes began to flit open. Gradually, she managed to finally open them against the bright afternoon sun. Her vision was blurry at first, her eyelids drooped lazily over her eyelids. 

_Where am I? she thought, feeling tired out and dreadfully heavy. She could barely move onto her side to view her surroundings, when she then became aware of several particularly sensitive spots on her body. She winced somewhat and lied back down again._

Looking toward the direction in which she'd heard the voice, which was near the door, she saw a rather flustered Madame Pomfrey and an aggravated Harry. It took her a few moments to process her location and why she was there, nonetheless what was happening at the other end of the hospital wing.

But now that she was waking, the other people in the hospital wing peered at her, a look of surprise on both of their faces.

A surprised look came over her own face as she watched Harry push past Madame Pomfrey and hurried over to her. The nurse threw up her hands in surrender, shaking her head, and tended to another one of her ill patients.

"Ginny," he said in profound relief, placing a hand on hers. Ginny winced at the sudden sharp pain in her wrist, and Harry immediately withdrew.

"Sorry," he said quietly with a kind smile. Weakly, she returned it and gave him a dismissive shrug.

"It's probably nothing," responded Ginny, her voice out of tune.

"Really?" replied Harry with a slight smirk. "It looks like it's been bandaged pretty heavily."

Ginny's eyebrow scrunched as she picked up her hand and looked at the thick wrapping around it, her fingers looking stubbier than usual as they poked out. Her eyebrows then rose in mild interest.

"So it is," she groaned, gently lowering it back down to the bed. "Why am I in here?"

Harry stared at her oddly. "I was about to ask you that," he said quietly. "You don't remember?"

She looked up at him. "Do you know?"

Harry frowned and shook his head slowly. Ginny then looked away toward the ceiling as if it held the answers. Momentarily she closed her eyes, trying to remember back to when she and Rebecca brought in Daphne. And then there was Daphne.

"I remember," she began, "bringing in Daphne with Rebecca last night. You know, Daphne Trent, one of the Prefects for fifth year?"

Harry didn't really answer the question but responded. "You brought her last night?" he said in a low voice. "You've been here since yesterday, Gin."

Ginny's eyes widened. "Yesterday?" she whispered in disbelief.

"Mm-hmm. I came by three or four times. You were sleeping."

She didn't respond immediately, taking in that she'd been sleeping for over a day. She'd never even fainted before. __

_But what about everyone else?_

"Is Daphne alright?" she asked softly, not expecting Harry to wince and motion a few beds down. But that's what he did.

_Oh, my God. That can't__ be her._

She turned her head to look at poor Daphne, still unconscious. Her neck was in a cast; oxygen tubes trailed from her nose into an automated breathing device, though the scrapes on her cheeks had eventually become scabs. Ginny's bandaged hand flew to her mouth, her heart sinking in guilt.

"What's wrong with her?" she asked.

Not answering right away, he walked up to the bed and looked at the chart. He winced again, this one more dramatic than before.

"Concussion and a spinal injury," he said glumly. Her heart sinking even lower, she buried her face in her hands. In simple denial, she shook her head, horrible feeling sweeping over her. Harry, seeming to sense this, returned to her side, putting a hand of her shoulder. Before she knew it, she had begun to weep.

But she soon felt a pair of warm hands tugging her hands away from her face. Through her silent tears, she could see Harry staring down at her.

"The chart says 'fair condition'," he said reassuringly. "She should be out in no time. Don't cry."

She continued, and this time, she spoke. "I never liked her," she said almost incoherently with a trembling voice. "She was always Ms. Popular, Ms. Perfect. Now look what I've done." Her shoulders shook as her hands went back to her face. She could feel Harry's inquiring eyes.

"_You pushed her down the stairs?" he said cautiously. And just like that, she paused._

No. No, she _hadn't pushed her down the stairs. Why did she just say it was her?_

"No," she said after a minute, her tone clearer. She withdrew her hands from her face. "I didn't push her. Might as well have, but I didn't. But it was _still an accident, and neither of us meant for it to happen. Becky was just trying to tell her I was fine, and --"_

_Wait a minute..._

"Has Becky come by at all?" she queried, her tears halted. "Where is she?"

Harry shrugged in answer to both of her questions. He said the exact same thing he had said in Gladrags not long ago. 

            "I haven't seen her around."

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Well, yay, another chapter. The seventh is in progress; I'm trying my hardest to keep by hand off of the game controller to the Xbox, trust me. It probably won't be that long off a wait (I almost beat the game, anyway), but if it is, just keep an eye out. Thanks for reading :).  
  



	8. Little White Lies

A/N: Let's see...thanks to Mats Forsen, Sarah Black, Tabbycat, civateteo, and Sache for reviewing. Btw, to Sarah: Toejam & Earl was what I was playing. Fun game.  
  
Well, here's the seventh chapter. Hurrah! Basically, in this one, Becky begins to get a bit of an edge...plus some funny conversation between Ron and Ginny. Enjoy.  
  
*************************************************************************   
  
Chapter Seven  
Little White Lies  


            At dinnertime, Harry left the hospital wing with the promise that he'd visit tomorrow. In tiny bits, her memory of her sudden collapse returned, though still not very sure of the events that had taken place. So far, she remembered pain - not exactly how it felt, per se, but she knew there was pain - and she recalled falling to the floor, or just hitting some kind of hard surface (her eyes _were shut). _

Eventually she was able to sit up in her bed to eat dinner, which Madame Pomfrey was attempting to spoon-feed to her before being convinced that Ginny's hands functioned properly. It hurt a bit, but she managed. There was a little difficulty in moving her jaw, mostly because of a bandage that covered her right cheek.

As she ate, she wondered about how she had fainted and _why she had fainted. She had heard Madame Pomfrey mention that she had no other symptoms of anything besides passing out. Every once in a while, she glanced at Daphne, who would stir occasionally when the nurse changed her bandages but not wake._

Her thoughts then went to Rebecca. Ginny sincerely hoped that she hadn't gotten into too much trouble, though the opposite probably happened, considering the drastic circumstances. She was scared for her, for herself and for Becky. Most of all, she was scared for Daphne.

Just because she was in fair condition didn't mean that she couldn't get worse.

After she was finished eating, Madame Pomfrey came over with some rubbing alcohol, gauze and tape to change the bandage on her face. Her tray was pushed aside, and Madame Pomfrey began to peel off the tape that held down the gauze. Ginny winced as the stringy fabric separated from her half-healed wound and automatically pulled away. The gauze hung loosely off her face by the remaining tape.

"Hold still, dear," chided Madame Pomfrey, grabbing hold of the tape once more between two fingers. Ginny groaned.

"Can't you heal it with a potion or cream, something along those lines?" she insisted, still flinching away from gauze.

"We're out of Bubotuber pus," explained Madame Pomfrey. "There's an order of it coming in. For now, we must manage with these Muggle first-aid kits..." With that, she peeled off the remaining tape, threw it in a nearby wastebasket, and opened the clean gauze. Ginny glanced again at Daphne. 

"What about her?" she asked the nurse. "Will she be okay?"

Madame Pomfrey's face became suddenly grim as she glimpsed the other girl. "She should be," she said quietly. Within a few minutes, her wound was swabbed with alcohol and covered with a new layer of gauze. Madame Pomfrey didn't continue as she applied it, causing another question to pop into Ginny's head.

"Madame Pomfrey?" said Ginny softly.

"Yes?"

"What's happened to Becky? Why hasn't she come to see me?"

To Ginny's surprise, Madame Pomfrey seemed to know whom she meant.

"Oh, you mean the Rebecca girl you were talking about when you brought in Ms. Trent?"

"Yeah, that's her. She was with me when I brought in Daphne."

Madame Pomfrey looked at her and shook her head slowly. "No, dear," she said. "You were here by yourself, just you and Ms. Trent."

Ginny's eyebrow scrunched. "Really? I could've sworn she was with me."

The nurse shook her head again.

_Hmm, she thought. __Must've hit my head pretty hard._

Madame Pomfrey went on to say something else unexpected.

"I've looked through my filing cabinets," she said, walking over to a pantry filled with all sorts of ailments, "of medical histories of the students and such. I haven't found a Rebecca Cwalino."

Ginny looked over at Madame Pomfrey. She was holding what looked like a sleeping draught in her hands and staring at Ginny carefully. 

"I have the medical records of every student in this school, whether their names were written down at birth or they transferred here. Or so I thought." 

There was a short silence before she spoke again.

"You said she transferred here this year, correct?"

Ginny nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

"You two are good friends?"

"Yes."

"And she's the one who accidentally pushed Ms. Trent down the stairs?"

Ginny stilled and her eyes widened slightly. She was sensing where the nurse was going with this. At any rate, Ginny nodded again.

"Now, it was only the three of you, right?"

She nodded. Madame Pomfrey nodded as well in acknowledgment.

"I see..." she said quietly. "Could you describe her for me?"

Ginny cleared her throat and described Becky. A tall girl with long, black hair, dark brown eyes, and glasses. Relatively thin, really pale.

Madame Pomfrey nodded again. "Anything else to identify her by?"

Ginny stared down at her bed sheets in concentration. "That's all I can think of for now," she said finally.

Madame Pomfrey appeared to be opening her mouth to ask another question when the doors opened. Ginny was half hoped it to be Rebecca or perhaps Harry. It was neither, which surprised Ginny. Her eyebrows rose in interest.

It was Ron. Out of her peripheral vision, Ginny saw Madame Pomfrey purse her lips together as she put away the potion in her hands. Silently, she thanked Ron for coming in before any more questions were asked or she was put to sleep, also grateful that he wasn't coming in with a beaten and bruised Harry hanging on his arm.

He walked up to her bed with a rare look of concern on his face. He halted at her bedside.

"Hey," he said silently.

"Hey," she responded. For a moment, she waited for him to begin his lecture on why she couldn't date his best friend.

"Harry told me you were awake," he added, sitting down on the end of her bed.

She glanced at him for a moment. "You haven't killed him yet?" she said with an inkling of a smile.

Ron smirked. "Not yet," he said. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

He glanced at her cheek and then down at her hand. "What happened?" he asked. "I thought you just fainted."

"I did," she said. "On hard, stone flooring."

Ron looked down in reference to her description. "Makes sense," he said. After his gaze lingered on the floor for a few seconds, it returned to her. He smiled softly.

"I'm glad you're okay."

She smiled back. "Thanks."

They sat in silence for a few moments, and then the lecture Ginny was expecting (or something like it) began.

"But really, what's wrong with Colin or Neville?" he asked.

She sighed heavily and rolled her eyes. "Nothing. I just like Harry."

Ron sighed and looked away for a second. Then he looked back. "Why?"

She gave him a stony expression. "You're impossible," said Ginny bluntly. "I don't see how Hermione deals with you."

To her satisfaction, Ron blushed a bright shade of red, fighting down a grin. "I'm _not going out with Hermione! Why does everyone think we're dating?"_

"Because you are," said Ginny simply.

"We are not," he insisted.

"Are too."

"Are not."

"Okay, Ron," she said finally, not seeming fully convinced.

"We're not!"

"Then why are you two always alone now?" she challenged.

"Because now, Harry's always with you," Ron shot back.

Ginny was taken aback at this statement. It was then that she realized Harry was around her a lot. He had been lately.

_He's got me there._

Inwardly, she also smiled and blushed.

When she had assured Madame Pomfrey that she didn't need the sleeping draught and could go to sleep on her own, she pretended to be asleep when she came in to check on her. The rest of the time, she lied awake, staring blankly at the wall, deep in thought. There were so many questions now. 

Where were Becky's medical records? Why was she nonexistent to her own roommates? And then there was her little conversation with Ron, which sparked all sorts of ideas in her head. Did Harry like her? Is that why he was spending so much time with her? And Daphne: would she be okay?

She began to develop a headache.

Ginny was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't hear the doors opening or the footsteps that followed. When she realized someone else was in the room, she looked up and saw another girl. The shadows created from her hair and the moonlight blocked out most of her face. Ginny gasped and jumped back, eyes wide as saucers.

"What?" said the girl innocently. Ginny recognized the voice and, figuring out who it was, and let out a breath of relief. Her eyes shrank in size.

"Becky!" she breathed.

"Very good, Ginny," said Becky sarcastically. Casually, she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

Ginny's unbandaged hand clutched at her chest, gripping her gown tightly. "You scared me!" she whispered to the practical ghost.

"Sorry," Becky whispered back. 

"How did you get in here? Isn't the door locked?"

"I picked it," she said, removing a small clip from her hair. It glimmered slightly in the dimness of the ward before she replaced it. "I was going to come earlier, but I got sidetracked by our project."

Ginny's eyes widened once again. Releasing a considerably loud curse, her hand immediately went from her chest to her mouth, hoping she hadn't woken up any of the stirring patients. Rebecca gave her a humourous look. Ginny returned it, smiling broadly.

"I mean... I, er...forgot about the project," she said, after the patients had calmed. Becky's outline shrugged its shoulders.

"I've got it under control," she said. Her glance on Ginny moved forward to Daphne. She still had yet to open up her eyes. "Never mind it. How are you?"

Ginny glimpsed her other hand for a moment. "I'll be fine."

"How is she?" asked Becky, eyes lingering on the unconscious girl. Ginny sighed softly, following the gaze.

"I don't know," said Ginny honestly, looking away. "Her chart says she's in fair condition, but it also says she has some kind of spinal injury. I don't see how the two would fit. I suppose she could get worse."

She looked again to Becky, who was still cloaked in shadow. "Did you get into trouble or anything?"

The other girl shrugged again. "No one's said anything to me."

Ginny half nodded. In the pause that followed, her thoughts drifted back to the little conversation that she'd had with Madame Pomfrey that evening.

"How come you have no medical records?" said Ginny suddenly, breaking the quiet of the hospital wing. Becky, seeming not to expect this, turned her darkened face toward her.

"I don't?" she said after a minute. Ginny shook her head.

"How would _you know that?" Becky asked. Ginny could hear the suspicion in her voice._

"Madame Pomfrey told me," she explained. "She says she was trying to find you in her medical histories and you're not there." As if sensing that Becky was probably puzzled about why Ginny was told this information, she went on.

"I think that _she thinks that I'm making you up and that I pushed Daphne."_

Becky didn't respond for a long moment. Finally she picked her head up, the moonlight illuminating the utterly blank expression on her face.

"Mum must've forgot to send them over," she said at last, preparing to leave. "But… I'll think of something. Okay?"

Ginny nodded silently, lifting her uninjured hand to wave goodbye. Becky responded in kind, and crept out as quietly as she had crept in.

But Ginny had noticed a few wholes in what Becky had said. She picked the lock. Why didn't she just magic it open?

Her mother didn't send any medical records. If that was true, why was she even there? She could be a hazard to the other students (_which is apparently true, thought Ginny as she glanced again at Daphne). She was a sickly child - you'd think she'd have some kind of record of that._

But none of this seemed to worry Becky, as she wondered down the halls. She seemed more concerned about what to do now, her next move. How to distract her friend from her absent medical records, her absent wand, her absence to the rest of the world. Just a little while longer, that's all she needed now. Well, that and another plan. 

So she continued to wonder, focusing on how to get free, how to get him right where she wanted him (although he seemed to be getting pretty close lately).

_He can tell something is going on inside that head of hers, thought Becky with a sigh. __I see it in his eyes... That's going to be a problem..._

And now, she realized, she had two people to distract.

And then, all of a sudden, it came to her. She knew another person to bring into the equation. 

Her muse. Her own personal, clueless muse.

  
  
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Hmm...wonder who it is... Well, I'm thinking that in the next chapter, this will be revealed. We'll also see what that song was all about. I actually got it off an episode of "Futurama" called "Jurassic Bark" (the episode where Fry finds his fossilized dog, for anyone who watches that). It was an unusually sad episode; the song was playing at the end of it.  
  
Anway, thanks for reading :). 


	9. Footsteps in the Dark

A/N: Oy...so sorry it took so long. Had some school stuff. Well, I got some done over the weekend, so...here's the eighth chapter. Like a lot of the stuff I post, I wasn't really sure about it. I hope I'm not putting in too much "shippiness" (he he, what a fun word).   
  
Anyway, I'd also like to thank my reviewers oO WTH, gibson girl, Sache, Fredrick, and Razberry. Okay, now enjoy.  
  
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Chapter Eight  
Footsteps in the Dark 

"She came by last night," said Ginny in a hushed voice. Harry knitted his brow.

"Who came by?" he inquired.

"Rebecca," she answered. "She came by last night."

"Oh, Becky."

Ginny glanced around the hospital wing to see if Madame Pomfrey was still nearby to see that she was, treating some of her cold or flu patients. Sighing inwardly, she mentioned her other visitor.

"Ron came by, too." She almost laughed out loud at Harry's aghast face as he stared at her.

"_Ron?" he said in awe._

She nodded fervently. "I know; I was surprised, too."

"What did he say?"

"Erm..." said Ginny, looking away briefly and holding back a blush. "Not much, actually," she said.

"Nothing bad?"

Appearing to take this into thought for a few minutes, she shook her head. "Not really. He said he was glad I was okay, and got onto me about accusing him of...dating Hermione."

Harry huffed derisively. "They _are_ dating," he scoffed.

"That's what I said," she agreed, vaguely braiding and unbraiding the same strand of hair, as she'd been doing most of the day with boredom.

"Exactly," said Harry, glad he wasn't the one who thought so. "As much as I'd rather not interfere or, um, _know_, I kind of wish they'd stop skirting the issue and get to the point, so...I've been trying to leave them to...well, themselves."

Ginny assuaged abruptly, her fingers refraining from her braiding. Like most girls - again, in general - she had a gift for hearing things and putting them into her own meaning. But really, a voice in the back of her head reasoned, this couldn't mean what she thought it meant.

Harry was hanging out with her so that Ron and Hermione could have some "alone time." Nothing more, nothing less. Or maybe they weren't really paying attention to him in the first place, and he looked elsewhere for company. But unlike other girls, if she was basically getting what she wanted, she tried not to complain, as she had learned years ago in her family.

Translation, why was she complaining?

Harry seemed to notice her sudden lack of motion, he glanced at her. "Ginny?" he asked uncertainly. Coming back to reality, she looked up at him at the sound of her name.

"Hmm?"

"You alright there?" He looked at her carefully. With a small smile, she nodded.

"Actually," she said after a second, "Madame Pomfrey said I should be out later today or tomorrow."

Harry's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Really?"

She nodded again. "I told you: Weasleys are immune to practically everything. And that blasted Bubotubor pus just came in this morning..." she added, rubbing her cheek.

A smile slowly formed across his face. "Do you know what day it is?" he asked, not moving his glance. She crinkled her forehead in confusion and shook her head slowly.

"Today," he said, as if making a big announcement, "is the twenty-third of December." 

With somewhat of a gasp, she stared at him, dumbstruck. Already? 

"Wow," she said in awe.

His grin broadened. "I know. You're just in time," he said brightly. "So I don't have to spend the evening moping with Ron."

A bustling Madame Pomfrey, who cleared her throat loudly to silence them, interrupted their brief bought of laughter. Smiling, they exchanged glances for a long moment. Without much warning, the feelings she usually got when she looked into his eyes came over her. 

She couldn't breathe. 

Again, Harry was the first to break the silence.

"I'll see you tomorrow then," he said in a mumble, almost incoherent. 

"Okay," she said quietly in response.

He smiled softly and lingered for a few more moments - to reach up and gently ruffle her hair. Her jaw dropped in indignation as she vainly straightened out her hair. Upon clearing the strands of scarlet from her eyes, she saw Harry as he was closing the door. Their gazes met again.

And he stuck her tongue out at her. She glared back.

But after the door had closed and they were both on their own sides, both were smiling broadly.

_Okay, so maybe he does_ like hanging out with me after all.__

"How long do I have to wear this cast?" Ginny asked the nurse later that day, waving her hand slightly. "_Why_ am I wearing it? I thought you could just use your wand to --"

"That's already done," assured Madame Pomfrey. "And that's not a cast. It's just a lot of bandages..."

Ginny's eyebrows rose and she looked at her hand in wonder. "Ouch. How exactly did I injure myself in the first place?"

"Well, let's see... When you fainted, you hit your head on that nightstand by Daphne's bed...and broken bones caused the wounds on your hand. You just got those when you actually hit the ground."

"Oh," said Ginny with a nod. "Ouch."

For a moment, she studied the nurse, who had seemed a bit fidgety for the past few hours since she'd woken up from her nap. "So are you going to put on that stuff now?" she asked, avoiding the thought of spreading a thick, yellowish pus on her bare skin. In response, Madame Pomfrey lifted up a far of thick, yellowish pus, along with a bag full with balls of cotton.

"Great," muttered Ginny, sarcasm evident in her tone. With a grimace, she closed her eyes as the nurse picked up a cotton ball and went to work. When she was done administering the Bubotubor pus, she let it sit for a few minutes before wiping it away with a damp washcloth.

"Alright," announced Madame Pomfrey, dropping the cloth into a hamper. "I'm all done. I'll go get your clothes."

She went to the other end of the ward and returned with the same clothes she'd been wearing the same day that she arrived. Plopping them down at the end of her bed, Madame Pomfrey drew the curtains for her. Silently, she began to pull her gown over her head. As she did so, she heard Madame Pomfrey speak to her.

"Ginny, dear?" she said from behind the curtain.

Ginny paused briefly before answering. "Yes, ma'am?"

"That night...was Daphne an accident?"

Ginny smirked lightly to herself, now pulling on her other shirt. The first thought that went through her head, due to the wording of the question - _Yes. She was _an accident._ On the other hand, she did realize that Madame Pomfrey didn't mean it that way._

"Yes," she answered. "We didn't mean for her to fall; she lost her balance."

Unsteadily, she fumbled with her jeans, trying to bend into a more suitable angle. There was a brief silence before Madame Pomfrey asked her something else.

"Are you sure that Rebecca pushed her?" she said as Ginny was pulling back to curtain. At a glance, Madame Pomfrey's expression wasn't exactly readable to her. Concern or suspicion? Ginny's expression faltered as she put on her jacket. 

"Yes," she said quietly. "I take it you haven't found her records yet?"

For a fleeting moment, creases lined the nurses forehead prior to her answer.

"No, dear... You can go back to the Gryffindor tower now." She finished quietly, putting on a seemingly forcible smile. Ginny smiled back politely, heading for the doors.

"Bye, Madame Pomfrey," she called over her shoulder.

There wasn't an answer.

As the early evening settled in, the limited light of overcast skies poured through the windows, casting the corridors with a dim, eerie glow. Usually around this time, either the torches were lit or she'd be returning with her fellow Gryffindors from classes or dinner, and the darkness of the castle hadn't seemed so scary - somewhat soothing to her, actually. But all alone in the dark, she felt a bit anxious from the bleak corners and turns.

_It's tough being paranoid, she thought worriedly to herself. It even seemed a bit colder than usual, she realized as she tugged her on her jacket._

Bravely, she began her journey to the tower, taking slow, tentative steps. Her eyes were peeled as she went, trying to ignore the creaks of the old building and the occasional whistling of the wind from outside.

_Oh, come on, Gin. You've come this way hundreds of times. There's nothing to be afraid of._

Though trying to believe her thoughts, she continued in a vigilant manner, preparing to run for it.

And then there was a sound, a shuffle. Against her best judgment, she paused for a moment and listened. Nothing. 

Not even daring to look behind her, she began to walk again, quickening her pace considerably. She heard it again and, this time, didn't stop going. The shuffling only became louder, soon to be joined by audible footsteps. 

Someone was following.

Eyes widening, she went with what she'd wanted to do: run. As fast as her legs could go, she sprinted down the corridors and a staircase with no regard to her difficulty to breathe or her pounding heart. It didn't matter right now.

But then:

"Hey!" called the person, sounding out of breath. "Wait up!"

Ginny halted suddenly, holding her own breath momentarily as she spun around. Looking up the head of the stairs, she could make out an approaching figure, probably a boy. His silhouette gave away the odd state of his hair.

"Harry?" she whispered, making her way up the stairs to meet him. The figure nodded his head fervently.

"Why are you running?" he questioned in a confused way. She didn't say anything - without a thought in her head, she threw her arms around him in immense relief. She felt him hesitantly pat her on the back.

"Er...hi," he said nervously. Her eyes widened again. Seeming to come back to her senses, she quickly withdrew from him, now thanking the darkness. Well, in any case, she was sure she was glowing to be seen in the dark.

"Sorry, Harry," she said hurriedly. "It's really dark - I heard a noise, so I just --"

"It's alright," he reassured her. "I was coming up to check on you before I went back to the common room, and you, er...passed right by me. Sorry if I scared you."

"No, I'm fine."

"You sure?"

Ginny nodded, figuring that he could see her well enough. They stood in silence for a minute and she focused on something past him to lighten the awkwardness of the moment off of her. It was a few seconds before she realized Harry was staring at her. Even though there wasn't much light in the corridors, she could see how it seemed to illuminate the bright green of his eyes in a fascinating way. Her breath caught in her throat.

_Wow._

She stared wondrously at him for just a few seconds - before the torches began to light up.

And there they were, now with better vision, staring at each other. Chuckling nervously, both of them turned away.

"We should probably be getting back," Ginny said in a hushed voice. Harry just nodded. Together, they began their way back to the tower. After a few quiet moments, Ginny's mind and previous thoughts before she stepped into the corridor returned to her.

Rebecca. Still no records. How did she even get in without them? And if she doesn't have them, how did she stay in? 

How _will she?_

"I worry about her sometimes," she said incoherently, not very attentive to her own words. She scrunched her brow in confusion. _Did I just say that out loud?_

"Pardon?" responded Harry, puzzled.

"Oh - nothing," she said, feeling her cheeks burning in the slightest. "I was just thinking aloud --"

"About what?"

Ginny, taken aback by his questioning, took a second to answer. "Er, Rebecca," she said, lowering her voice as she continued. "I'm worried about her."

"Is she okay?" asked Harry.

"I hope so," she said. "See, Madame Pomfrey says she has no medical records, and I think she might get expelled or something."

His puzzled look returned. "No records? Did they loose them or something?"

"Hmm... Well, now that I think about it, they must have," said Ginny. "I mean, I don't think she'd have gotten in without them. Yeah, that sounds about right."

Not much else was said as they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady and entered the common room, which was fairly empty because just about everyone had gone home for winter holidays. They lingered for a few moments before turning in for the night.

"Again, sorry I scared you tonight," said Harry quietly as he was about to go up to his dormitory.

"It's okay. Better you than...other people," she said, unable to think of someone off the top of her head. He smirked, approaching the staircase to his dormitory.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay," Ginny replied. "Goodnight."

"'Night, Gin."

He was the first to disappear behind his door. When he had, she was smiling contently, as she always did. She then entered her own room, where she ran into Becky, who smiled up at her from her four-poster.

"You're back," she greeted. Ginny smiled back, falling onto her own bed.

"Yep," she sighed. "And I've been thinking: maybe the school lost your records."

Becky glanced at her and then thoughtfully up at the ceiling. "That's a good explanation," she concluded ponderously.

Ginny smiled gently. "_And_ on the way back, I ran into Harry."

Becky smirked. "Yes, of course, Harry… It like the boy stalks you," she said, mumbling her next comment under her breath. "If I didn't know better..."

Becky trailed off, her eyes widening somewhat as she glanced the other girl and looking away. Ginny looked at her suspiciously.

"What?" she asked cautiously. Becky just smiled nervously, shaking her head dismissively.

"Nothing," she said quietly.

"No," said Ginny, suddenly interested. She picked her head up for a better view. "What do you mean, 'if you didn't know better?'"

Becky still avoided eye contact, looking down on her bedspread. She winced somewhat.

"Becky --"

"Alright," she answered after a few tense seconds. "I might as well tell you... Well, I'm just not sure anymore about Harry..."

"Why do you say that?" prompted Ginny, sitting up.

Rebecca shrugged. "I don't know..." she mumbled. "I've just seen him...talking to Cho lately, and I thought..."

Ginny's look of suspicion diluted into something else, a subtler one.

"He's been talking to Cho?"

"A little..." When she didn't elaborate, Ginny pressed for more details.

"What's he been saying?"

Becky shrugged again. "I don't know, I wasn't _that_ close."

Ginny swallowed a lump in her throat as she asked one more question.

"Well, you don't think..." She couldn't finish, couldn't bring herself to say it.

Either way, all she got in response to that was a heavy sigh and a moment of silence. Becky turned to her again.

"Look," she said, "I'm sorry I got you all fired up about it. Shouldn't have said anything. Never mind, okay?"

And with that, she turned over on her side, her back to her friend, who was left staring after her. She felt a familiar sensation beneath her ribs, the same one she'd had when he'd gone to the Yule Ball with Parvati Patil. When she'd been watching through the window as Hermione kissed him on the cheek.

When he'd invited Cho for the second time to the ball.

But no. That couldn't be right. Why was he around all the time? Why was he so instantly keen to be around all the time?

_I mean, I know he may always have some feelings for her, she thought rationally, __but...he still wants to be with me, doesn't he?_

_Doesn't he?_

"But that can't be right, Becky," she said quietly after her in barely a whisper.

            Ginny guessed she hadn't heard; there was no response.

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_Well_... wonder what happens next?... What am I saying? No I don't. I'm writing it. He he.  
  
But seriously, the next chapter should be pretty interesting. Hopefully it'll be up by the end/beginning of this/next week, but I can't promise anything. In fact, I should be done in a few chapters (keyword, "should"). Well, tune in next time, and thanks for reading. 


	10. Pandora's Box

  
  
A/N: Okay. First off: I'm really, really, really, really, really, really, _really_ sorry about the delay. Four projects. Four! All due in, like, the same week! Two from the _same class_! Mr. Stal, you'll be the death of me... Anyway, sorry. Hey, and did anyone see the Michael Jackson interview? I'm still unnerved.  
  
And, of course, thanks to all my reviewers in the past three or four weeks (even i lost count): Wyrd Sista187, Sarah Black, Lucia Dreams, Frederick Weasley, and gibson girl. You're all lovely people.   
  
Alright, now to this long awaited chapter, entitled, "Pandora's Box". Oooh. Well, actually, this one is kind of funny, like a lot of them. Anyway, in this one, we get a little bit of suspense from Dumbledore. *gasp* Anyway, enjoy.  
  
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Chapter Nine  
Pandora's Box  


The next morning was bright, sun pouring in generously through the windows and settling against the walls of the girls' dormitory. One day left till the ball. And Ginny was still going with Harry. She was sure of it.

She woke up in a state that she probably should've been in months earlier - angry with Becky. Well, not all that angry so that it was visible. It was more like a nagging question in the back of her head that just wouldn't leave her alone. And of course, the question: why would Becky tell her that? Besides, just because she said so didn't mean it was true.

She learned that one from Fred and George a long, _long_ time ago.

Briefly, she glanced at the neighboring bed, whose curtains were drawn. Getting up from her bed, she tiredly stumbled over to her trunk, sitting before it on her knees. As Becky slept, she opened it and removed her dress robes she'd gotten for the ball. Quietly, she ran her fingers over the soft velvet in her hands, thinking, dreaming. First, the little things, such as just talking to or being near him. Then, the dating, perhaps her first kiss…well, from him: technically, Neville was her first kiss. But later on, graduation, engagement, marriage, children (er, maybe)...

_Why can't I have all that? she would think sometimes. Well, maybe she could. She wasn't about to let a few simple words in a little, almost casual conversation ruin that. She'd have to see all that for herself._

But first, it was Sunday. Harry had practice today. Replacing her dress robes in her trunk and pulling out something to warm to wear, she closed it and headed for the bathroom. When she had showered and dressed, she took a few minutes more to comb her hair and brush her teeth and left the bathroom.

And as she was leaving the dormitory, she gazed one more time out the window. The players were already on the field, where the snow upon it was melting under an exceptionally warm sun. At first glance, she wouldn't have been able to tell that there were fifteen people on the field, not the standard fourteen.

She didn't notice.

Grabbing her cloak, she walked out of the dormitory, through the common room, down the corridors and stairs, and outside to a surprisingly warmer morning, save for the snow. She looked up at the blue sky in awe. It was a beautiful day, especially for the middle of winter.

With a small smile, she headed toward the Quidditch field in the near distance.

There, she saw Harry standing patiently as if waiting for her at the bleachers, one hand in his pocket, the other holding his Firebolt over his shoulder. Ginny saw it as an attempt to try to look suave (as he'd called it one time while they were teasing Ron one fine morning, after he'd made the team).

"Look at him!" Harry'd said, unable to hold in the sniggers. "Just - just look at him!"

Ginny and Hermione were with him, looking down on Ron from the common room. Harry said when he'd woken up, Ron had already left for the field. He'd been there for a little while. Right now, he was walking out in his Quidditch robes, with his broom over his shoulder. "Casually", he leaned against the wall of the locker rooms. By this time, Ginny had already begun laughing with Harry, but Hermione was insistent on getting them to desist (okay, so she was holding back a laugh).

"Stop it, you two," reprimanded Hermione. "It's not that funny."

It was that moment when Ron decided to put on a pair of sunglasses. 

Harry and Ginny doubled over in laughter. Before Harry could quite get out the word "hypocrite", Hermione was hunched over the table, chortling uncontrollably. After about five minutes, he announced he had to go to practice. More accurately:

"Alright, I have to go practice with this prat. See you at breakfast." 

As soon as he'd walked past the portrait, he could be heard laughing again on the other side.

But today, he wasn't trying to look suave, or it didn't look like it. His expression seemed more scared, more worried. The smile on Ginny's face began to fade. She quickened her pace a little, soon reaching him. She studied his expression carefully for a few moments.

"What's wrong?" she asked concernedly. She couldn't tell whether it was a wince she had received from him.

"It's nothing much, it's just..." His eyes seemed to dart uncomfortably toward the bleachers. She followed his glance. She was suddenly stricken motionless.

"Is that Cho?"

"Don't jump to any conclusions," said Harry quickly. "I'm just as surprised as you. I think she just wants to talk about..."

"Summer," finished Ginny, not quite knowing what to think. It didn't take much to realize he was referring to what happened to Cedric. Harry nodded, his eyes downcast.

"Are you okay?" she asked quietly, looking at him intently. He stared back.

"Are you?"

She gazed at him for a few more moments before smiling subtly. "I'll be fine," she said as lightly as she could. "You don't have to worry about me."

"I know," he said, almost under his breath.

Ginny, with a small sigh, glanced again at Cho sitting in the bleachers. Half of her was willing to try and sit for the next couple of hours by a very sweet yet very intimidating person (of course, her sweetness was what made her so intimidating). The other half wanted to find something else to do for the time being. She went with her second half.

"Oh, no," she said faintly to herself.

"What?" queried Harry.

"I just remembered," she said in a somewhat disappointed voice. "I forgot to get Becky's present. I thought I'd have more time, but then..."

Harry just nodded, lingering a moment before the whistle was blown. Reluctantly, he walked onto the field and mounted his broom. She watched him for a few seconds as he steadily rose into the air, glanced one last time at Cho, and then heading for Hogsmeade.

Slowly she walked, lost in thought. There was Cho, the same girl Harry'd fancied since forever (not that he told her; it's was just painfully obvious to her), sitting in the bleachers, watching them practice. She knew it probably wasn't Quidditch-related: Cho had quit after Cedric had passed. So what if Becky was right? Did Cho spell disaster?

To busy with her ponderings, she arrived at the lot where the carriages were kept to see that not a single one had left. She then remembered that they weren't able to go until after breakfast. With a low grumble, she returned to the castle, rather than the Quidditch stands.

_No breakfast and no Hogsmeade trips for a couple hours... Guess I'll go back to the common room._

Marching back through the snow, up the front steps, and into a warmer atmosphere, she absently went by the Great Hall. So absently that she didn't realize, until glancing out the window as she passed the headmaster's office, she had a good view of the Quidditch field. Exhaling in a frustrated manner, she leaned on the window seal and watched them for a while.

After a minute, she noticed the murmur of voices. 

Turning her focus away from the field, she shifted in place to hear a little better. The voices were coming from the office next to her, right behind the gargoyle that guarded it. They seemed to be getting closer; arguing, it sounded like at first. Steadily, the words became audible.

"Why do you have to show me?" said the deeper voice. Dumbledore. "Can't you simply tell me?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I simply told you, Albus," said the other voice, her voice hinting worry and, perhaps, fright. But Ginny recognized it. Her brows lifted with slight interest.

She heard Dumbledore scoff. "Come now, Poppy. Remember with whom you speak. If you told me I had a tree growing out of my head, I would trust you wholeheartedly --"

"Please, sir," she scolded mildly. "This is serious."

A patient sigh. "Alright. Go ahead."

Another sigh. "As you may know," she began, "we've had Ginny Weasley in the wing for about a week, after she brought in Daphne."

Ginny's eyes widened. On the other side of the wall was a hum of acknowledgement.

"Well," continued the nurse, "I remember that right before she fainted, she mentioned another student who was with her when Daphne was injured. And I looked through my records of this year's students - I mean, I looked and looked - and I didn't find a thing. So I used the location charm --"

"Ah, yes, the location charm," interrupted Dumbledore in a nostalgic tone. "That takes me back... Almost lost an arm with that one in my early twenties. Quite complex, I congratulate you --"

"Albus!"

"Oh, yes, the file. Sorry. Please continue."

Ginny could almost see the disdain on Madame Pomfrey's face. "Anyway, I used the location charm, and it found nothing. So I'd figured I'd done something wrong. You are right about one thing; the charm can be tricky.

"But today, I was in my office, and I heard this strange tapping on the door. I asked whom it was, and I didn't get an answer, just more tapping. I told whoever was at the door that it was open, but they just kept tapping. So finally, I just got up and opened the door - and _this_ hits me in the face!"

Ginny assumed that Madame Pomfrey was holding the object.

"A file," said Dumbledore simply in slight amusement. "The one you were seeking?"

"It was."

Ginny smiled to herself.

"Oddly enough," the nurse added in an undertone. "It didn't come out of the same stack, not even the same drawer." 

Ginny's smile faltered.

"You might need to look at it, sir."

There was a brief silence and a slight rustling of paper. "Why? What's wrong with it?"

There was a bit more rustling and a bit more silence. A lot more, actually. The longer the silence, the more anxious Ginny grew to hear more. She began to press her ear to the wall.

"Rebecca Cwalino," said Dumbledore quietly. The name seemed to echo through Ginny's head as she waited to hear more from him than just the one simple statement. 

He said nothing, but the nurse did.

"Do you know her, Albus?"

He took his time answering. "Have you seen her at all?"

"Erm...no, I haven't," said Madame Pomfrey, sounding confused.

"I'll take care of this, Poppy," he said, his voice still soft. "Don't you worry about it. You may return to the hospital wing."

Realizing that the nurse was about to exit and find her eavesdropping, she scurried down the corridor and around a random corner, waiting until she heard the movement of the gargoyle and the disappearing footsteps. Coming our from behind her corner, she headed back to her dormitory, not even daring to stop and look out the window.

A few minutes later, she was passing through the portrait hole and walking up the steps the girls' dormitory. Upon opening the door, she spotted Becky sitting up on her bed, nervously biting her thumbnail. She didn't even seem to notice that Ginny had cracked open the door. She whispered something that was nearly incoherent, but Ginny heard it:

            "I'm running out of time."

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Ooohhhh....*dun, dun, _duuun_...* He he. Alright, in the next chapter, I expect we'll have a bit more angst. Fun, fun, fun. Well, thanks so much for reading. 


	11. Too Good to Be True?

  
  
A/N: Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!!!!! School is out!!!! I can finish!!! Eleven days, everybody, eleven days!!!!!!  
  
He he, thanks to everyone who reviewed (Wyrd Sista, kim, Fredrick, liltrick89, Kristen, Nichole, Sache, oO WTH, and Lady Shirubana) or anyone who's still reading, for that matter. Yes, four months later, school is over (I passed geometry : D), and I'm putting up the rest before June 21.  
  
Well, here it is - *drumroll* - chapter ten! "Too Good to Be True?"...ooh. Fitting for this particular chapter, huh?  
  
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Chapter Ten  
Too Good to Be True?  
  


For a moment, Ginny just stared at her from the doorway, wondering if it was a good time to inform her about her medical records. Gently, she knocked on the door. It was then that Becky seemed to snap out of her trance, and she looked at Becky. She looked as pale as ever. A good few seconds passed as they just stared at each other, as if seeing each other for the first time.

"Rebecca?" said Ginny softly. "Are you okay?"

Becky looked away, just nodding. "I thought you were in the bleachers today."

Ginny gave a small wince. "Cho," she said, heavily, approaching her bed. At the sound of the name, Becky's eyes widened slightly as she shifted to look out at the field.

"I'm sorry," she murmured softly, not looking away. 

"For what?" said Ginny in somewhat of a snort. "You didn't do anything." She shrugged dispiritedly and collapsed on her four-poster, not noticing to the gleam of irony in her friend's eye. After a deep sigh, Ginny continued.

"It was too good to be true, anyway..." She quietly snorted again.

"I guess Colin doesn't seem so bad after all... Enough about me," she said suddenly, turning to look at Becky. "What's up with you?"

Becky seemed confused. "Nothing," she said slowly. "Why?"

Ginny studied her expression for a few moments. "You look sad."

"So do you."

"I _am_ sad."

Becky just averted her glance to the floor, giving no type to response. Ginny didn't move her gaze.

"What did you mean, 'you're running out of time?'"

Becky paused for a moment, seeming almost shocked, but then raised an eyebrow. "I said what?"

Ginny blinked. "When I walked in," she said. "You said you were running out of time. Why?"

Becky shook her head slowly. "I didn't say anything when you came in," she said truthfully.

"Hmm," said Ginny in equal puzzlement. "Maybe it was just me... But anyway, I have some good news. They've found your medical records."

Becky pretended to be surprised. "Did they now?"

"Yeah. They just sort of popped up today from some random drawer."

Giving her a small, awkward smile, Becky got up and retrieved her clothes from her trunk and walked into the bathroom.

Ginny didn't see Harry until a little into breakfast; she figured he was talking with Cho and delayed his meal. Even when he did arrive, she had made sure she was sitting a considerable distance from Ron and Hermione and avoided the eye contact he sought.

After breakfast, she went to Hogsmeade alone, quickly finishing her food and taking one of the first available carriages. The whole way, she pondered what might be wrong with Becky's file or the things she'd be getting for Christmas. Anything that didn't really have to do with Harry.

Soon, she was in Hogsmeade, browsing through Gladrags once again. In addition to the clothing, there was a miniature jewelry section. With a slight shrug, she went over and looked. Quietly, she dreamed to herself, gazing at all the gold, silver, and gems within the glass cabinet. She sighed a sigh that was part wistful, part hopeless. 

Then she noticed one piece of jewelry, a subtler item. It was a silver locket, in the shape of a heart. She'd always wanted a locket, especially one of the lockets that played the little tunes. A fine necklace, a picture frame, and a music box all rolled into one. Before, she could never afford them.

Subconsciously, she felt the slight weight of metal in her pocket against her right hip. Ginny cleared her throat.

"Sir," she called to the elderly clerk behind his register. He looked up at her before walking over.

"How may I help you this afternoon, miss?" he said warmly.

"I just wanted to see this locket right here," she requested, pointing to it through the glass. The clerk took out his wand and unlocked the cabinet, removing the locket and placing it on the counter.

"Here you go," he said as he presented the box. Almost cautiously, she lifted the silver heart from the box. Fingering it slightly, she opened it at the crack with her nails. And it was one of the musical lockets, playing a slow, sorrowful tune as she pried it open. She listened intently.

__

Sounds like my kind of music.

Looking up from the locket, she asked the clerk, "How much is this?"

"Erm...seventeen Galleons, two Sickles," he replied, checking the tag in the cabinet.

Ginny bit her lip slightly. She knew she had enough but not that much. And this wasn't one of these items that she was going to just wear and return; she wanted to keep it.

__

Well, she thought in compromise, _I _am _returning the dress robes in a couple of days..._

She exhaled deeply. "I'll take it."

After she'd obtained her locket and placed it around her neck, she decided to head over to the Three Broomsticks. She was fairly happy and surprised to see that no one she knew was in the pub; if anything, it was pretty empty. Choosing a booth in the back, she plopped down with her plastic shopping bag, empty save for the receipt. She ordered a glass of Butterbeer from Madame Rosemerta, and after she went to retrieve her order, Ginny just leaned back with a heavy sigh, staring blankly at the ceiling and fiddling with the silver resting on collar bone. 

Closing her eyes for a brief moment, savoring the silence of the room, she reopened them just in time to see Ron and Hermione entering. They stared at her, seeming taken aback; she stared back with a somewhat raised eyebrow. Exchanging glances, the couple approached her.

"Hey, Gin," said Ron carefully. Hermione echoed.

"Hi," she replied airily.

"Where'd you get that?" he asked, taking notice of the locket she wore. She brushed it slightly with her index finger.

"Gladrags," she said shortly. There was a short silence where Ron and Hermione surveyed Ginny carefully.

"Are you alright?" asked Hermione with concern. Ginny's brow scrunched.

"I've been hearing that question a lot lately," she said.

"Where's Harry?"

Ginny shrugged, suddenly realizing he wasn't with them or with her. "I was thinking he might be with you or something."

__

Maybe he's with Cho, she thought in the back of her head, unable to resist the notion. Without her knowing it, a frown settled on her face. There was a long silence until Madame Rosemerta returned with Ginny's Butterbeer. As she was about to pay, Ron, who paid for her, stopped her. Both she and Hermione looked at him curiously; he just shrugged and gave her what she recognized as a look of sympathy. He knew what she was thinking. Fleetingly, she wondered how long this look of sympathy was going to last - before she ran into a beaten and bruised Harry in a deserted corridor.

This was something for which, she realized later, she would've wished.

She stayed with Ron and Hermione for a bit while she finished her complementary Butterbeer. After that, she wondered off alone for a little while longer, browsing Hogsmeade. She thought she'd seen Harry a few times, but the crowd of last-minute shoppers was so large that he would usually blend with them and disappear. 

She was there until about five o'clock, when she decided to head back to the castle. Dinner was going to start soon. 

And on the way to the common room, in one of the many corridors, she heard a distant giggle and the soft murmur of voices. It actually wasn't too far off; perhaps around the corner. Knowing it wasn't nice to eavesdrop (though she had had a fair dose of it that morning), she tried to pass the neighboring corridor as quietly as possible, attempting not to disturb the couple. She didn't, but she almost immediately gave into her curiosity before she could really pass and looked. 

And when she did, she became really still. Her eyes widened; her mouth went dry.

Cho and Harry. Talking and laughing. In a practically deserted corridor.

Ginny watched as Cho said something she couldn't hear - and as Harry seemed to blush in response. More chuckles from Cho.

The pain that had developed in her chest seemed to intensify as if began to rise to her throat. There was a familiar stinging in her eyes. She determinedly withdrew herself from the view to find an alternate route and numbly went to the Gryffindor tower.

Ginny didn't see Cho glance out the window to look at the sky and was already well on her way by the time she turned back around and gasped. "Harry?" she said, perplexed. A slight smirk. "Where'd you go?"

Meanwhile, Ginny sluggishly journeyed through the corridors, unable to feel or pay attention much else than the aching on her ribcage. Cho was putting the moves on Harry. And it looked as though he may have been enjoying it.

The pain worsened. Added on to it was the burning in her eyes. She didn't even seem to mind when the staircase she was on began to move, linking itself onto another corridor. With mild regard, she noticed that it cut her trip nearly in half, the tower being only one more floor up. However, she did seem surprised when she ran into Becky, who was coming back another way - the way Ginny was about to go. She was humming to herself when she paused, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose as if to get a better look. Ginny looked at her oddly before ignoring Becky's unusually happy mood.

"Oh, hi, Gin," she greeted with a small smile that quickly faded. Her expression altered into one of concern as she looked at Ginny, who was sure her heartbreak was clearly visible.

"What's wrong?" asked Becky, approaching her quickly.

"You were right," she croaked. "I think he still likes Cho."

Becky's forehead creased. "What happened?"

Ginny only vaguely heard her. She didn't really want to talk about it anyway. So she tried to change the subject. "You're looking jolly today," she said in a somewhat amused voice.

Becky's smile returned. "I just came from the hospital wing," she said brightly. "Daphne's awake."

This certainly got Ginny's attention. The pain in her chest kind of diluted. Wide-eyed and open-mouthed, she stared at Becky in astonishment. "You're joking."

Becky's grin widened as she shook her head. "Nope. Her neck's been healed and everything."

Ginny let out sort of a half laugh, smiling. "Does she see you?"

Becky nodded. "I don't think she recognized me, though."

Mildly regarding this, Ginny's next question was delayed. "Do you know when she's getting out, by any chance?"

"No, but it shouldn't be too long... Actually, if I'm correct, her parents are coming in a few days."

Ginny's eyes widened again, this time not so happily. "Why?"

Becky shrugged. "I think they might be taking her home for a little while or something. She _did_ seem a bit shaken up. Other than that, she should be fine."

Ginny gently bit the inside of her cheek nervously. She kind of wondered about Daphne's take on the whole situation. Did she think Ginny had pushed her? If so, was she forgiven? It was, after all, a mistake. 

__

Well, if she does think I did it... she thought to herself as they walked up the last flight of stairs. _I guess the least I could do is say I'm sorry._

"Perhaps I'll visit her tomorrow," she stated upon entering the common room. Becky nodded in acknowledgment. But she stilled, her eyes suddenly finding and settling on something on the other side of the room. With a scrunched brow, Ginny followed her gaze.

To see Harry sitting alone at one of the round tables, staring right back.

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_Well..._ What oh what's going to happen next? Tune in next time to find out. And thank you, _thank you_ for reading. 


	12. Back down Memory Lane

  
  
A/N: Yay! the lights are back on (thunderstorm)! Hurrah!  
  
Well, since ff.net seems to be acting up again and I can't see any new reviews, I only got the ones sent to me with review alert: Rjk2005, Steph, A.Dee the Anglophile, Dark Angel, Gemm1, AlienSmile13, and argent. But thanks for any additional reviews - perhaps I'll get them one day. A side note to AlienSmile13: what do you mean by 'odd'? The chapter, the story in general...? It's a little late in the story for this, I know, but for future reference, a friendly reminder: if you're going criticize, do it constructively.   
  
Anywho, here's chapter eleven! Angry!Harry + Angry!Ginny = Angry!...Harry and Ginny. Yeah, they get to fight in this chapter. By the end; and erie twist. Ooh....  
  
Enjoy ;).  
  
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Chapter Eleven  
Back down Memory Lane 

Ginny stood as steady as a statue, eyes rooted to the sight. He didn't look very well; if anything, he seemed ill. Unlike fifteen minutes ago. Becky stood at her side for a moment, looking awkwardly from her to Harry.

"I'll leave you two alone, I guess," she said quietly. True to her word, she turned and headed up the stairs to the dormitory. Ginny finally turned, staring after her. Suddenly, she felt alone...

...But why was she so nervous? _I have nothing to hide._

Turning her eyes back on Harry, her anxious expression morphed into somewhat of a glare. Harry didn't really seem to notice, a grimace still present on his face. His eyes traveled from hers to the silver necklace around her neck and back. Silently, he used one of his feet to push out a chair for her, beckoning her to have a seat. Pursing her lips slightly, similarly to the way Professor McGonagall did, she strode over and sat down across from him. Her headache only seemed to get worse. 

For almost a full minute, they sat in silence, waiting for the other to speak. Finally Harry, looking out the window at the darkening sky, went first.

"So what have you been doing all day?" He sounded unusually tired.

"Just...browsing around Hogsmeade," said Ginny with a shrug. "What about you? How's Cho?"

His glance suddenly engaged hers, as if catching on to the hint in Ginny's voice. "She was fine this morning," was his delayed response. "A bit disturbed, but nothing serious."

Ginny's eyes seemed to darken. "Really?" she said, a small trace of ridicule in the word. "Because I just passed you two in the hall not fifteen minutes ago, and she seemed...happy, I daresay. In fact, how did you get back so fast?"

__

Daresay? she thought briefly. _I haven't said that one in ages._

Harry raised an eyebrow with perplexity. "First of all," he said, sitting up in his chair, "I've been here for at least an hour. Second of all, where'd you get that?"

It was her turn to look confused. "What?"

His eyes lowered to her neckline. "That."

Without thought, her hand took the locket between her fingers. "This, I bought," she said defiantly. "Besides, this isn't about me. You haven't been here for an hour. I just saw you in the hall, talking to Cho."

"I haven't talked to Cho since this morning. In fact, I've been in Hogsmeade, hoping I'd see you somewhere. I ran into Ron and Hermione at the Three Broomsticks and they told me you'd just left, so I came back here, and you weren't here, so I waited."

Ginny scoffed silently to herself. So these were the lies that her mother had warned her about so long ago.

"Look, you don't have to lie to me," she said quietly. "Becky's seen her around."

"And that's another thing," Harry continued, looking her square in the eye, "this girl you keep mentioning, Becky. She says this, she doesn't like that. You two are best friends, I've never seen you together. In fact, the only time I see you, you're alone. You say she pushed Daphne down the stairs, do you?"

Ginny, taken aback at his suddenly accusing tone of voice. For a few seconds, she just stared at him, but no sooner had she been shocked than she glared back at him.

"What are you trying to say?" she said edgily. "I pushed Daphne down the stairs? Becky's never around, so who else could it have been, right?"

"I didn't say that."

"Is that what you're implying?"

Fitfully, he sighed. "This isn't about you, remember?"

She began to chew her tongue, vaguely reminding Harry of his aunt. "You're right," she said finally, calming back down. "So what's up with you and Cho?"

"Nothing," said Harry, exasperated. "Please, I've been asked to relive the worst day of my life this morning, my best friends have been off somewhere else all damn day, and you've been avoiding me since practice. As you can imagine, it hasn't exactly been a great day for me."

Ginny sighed heavily. "You know what," she concluded wearily, "Nevermind. I don't even know why we're fighting about this... It's not like we were dating or anything." With that, she solemnly turned and went up to her common room, holding back tears. He looked at her one last time as she was walking away. 

"It's not," he said gently to no one. Even he couldn't tell whether his phrase was a question or a statement. 

When she got to the common room, it was empty. Even Becky wasn't there; faintly, she took notice of the sound of running water in the bathroom. She must've been in the shower.

Ginny took advantage of this time alone to crawl into her bed and bury her face into her pillow. This was the joy of being the only girl, and hence, having her own room to wallow in her own despair and go undisturbed for hours. She'd done this several times before, followed by a bought of weeping. A few tears had rolled down her cheeks, but otherwise, she didn't cry. She simply closed her eyes against the fabric, not thinking, not wanting to think. Her head hurt too much for either, for anything but to simply just be.

She wasn't sure how long she'd been laying there when the sound of the shower came to a sudden halt and was replaced by the sound of rustling clothes. She barely even acknowledged that Becky was nearby until she cleared her throat. Ginny turned her head against her pillow to see Becky, her hair wet and matted flat against her head. The warm smile she had on her face faded somewhat.

"What happened?"

Ginny took a deep breath and closed her eyes again, changing positions so that her back was to Becky. "I don't want to talk about it."

Becky frowned, sitting down on her bed across from Ginny's. "Oh, come on, Gin. You can talk to me about anything. You can trust me."

Ginny opened her mouth to respond, to tell her nothing short of, "I don't want to talk about it." But abruptly, it closed. Her eyes flew open. 

__

Wait a minute…

What Becky had just said played through her read continuously. These words...she'd heard them before. Several times, if you count the way they stuck in her head. She remembered it so clearly...

Ginny sat on her dormitory floor, ripping up one of her many, failed "secret admirer" letters. She just couldn't find the right things to say. Even when she did, she just could bring herself to send it to him. Frustrated, she began to tear it into pieces. 

At any rate, she ceased her work in progress long enough to hear the distant flapping inside her trunk. She stared at it in a startled fashion for about a minute. Eventually, out of curiosity, she cautiously scooted over to her trunk. Upon opening it, she found her new diary open to a random, blank page. Seeming to sense her presence, two simple words displayed themselves on the page.

'What's wrong?'

__

Ginny's eyes widened. With a sharp gasp, she scooted away from the trunk in surprise. Just as quickly as they'd appeared, they vanished. New ones came in.

'Are you there?'

__

Slowly, she stood, eyes not daring to budge from the trunk. "Who are you?" she whispered. Again, they words were replaced.

'I'm sorry. I can't hear too well. Maybe you could write it in the diary?'

__

She finally glanced at the quill and ink she'd abandoned on the floor by her small pile of still-intact parchment. She picked them up, dipped the quill into the ink, and hesitantly responded.

'Who are you?' _she repeated. Like the last time she'd tried to write in it, the words disappeared as if they were sinking into the parchment. She'd deemed it useless after that, but kept it anyway for further investigation._

'I'm Tom,' _he introduced. _'I kind of live in here.'

So that's why the words keep disappearing, _she thought to herself. She wrote more._

'Oh, sorry. I didn't realize I was disturbing you.'

'Nonsense, Virginia. I rather enjoy company.'

__

Ginny's brow scrunched in suspicion. 'How do you know my name?'

'You've written it before,' _he explained. _'Your name is Virginia B. Weasley, if I recall correctly. Anyway, I thought I heard you ripping up something or other not five minutes ago.'

'It was nothing, really.'

'It wasn't? The sound in here is horrible, but from what I heard, you sounded quite upset.'

__

Ginny bit her lip. She didn't know if she could trust him. Again, he seemed to read her mind.

'It's okay,' _Tom reassured her. _'I won't tell anyone. I don't think I can: I'm basically confined to these pages. You can trust me.'

__

With a heavy sigh, she dipped her quill into the ink again and wrote back.

For a long moment, Ginny just lied still, as if petrified to the spot. Almost mechanically, she turned around to see Becky. Her pale skin, her black hair, he shadowy eyes. Why did she look so familiar all of a sudden?

Looking at her as if she were some kind of poisonous snake getting ready to strike, she cautiously rose from her bed. Becky looked at her innocently with a crooked eyebrow.

"What is it?"

It was all Ginny could do keep from hyperventilating, to not break into a sprint out the door.

__

Think, Ginny. Please_ think._

The two girls locked eyes for what seemed like forever. Scared bewildered eyes against solid black ones.

"Ginny?"

Ginny seemed to snap out of her trance, reminding herself to breathe. For a brief moment, she went back to seeing Becky as the sickly, sadistic girl she'd claimed to be. This couldn't possibly be who she thought it was, or be related to someone who she couldn't have known.

But she knew that, with the ways of the wizarding world, you couldn't believe everything you see.

Whatever the case, she felt shaken up. And when all else fails, lie.

Ginny caught her breath and gave a halfhearted smile.

"I'm sorry," she said almost incoherently. "It's just...been a really long day. Maybe I just need to go on a little walk. You know, to clear my head."

"You've been walking around all day," contradicted Becky in a bright voice. "Take a rest."

Ginny's eyebrow furrowed. Becky seemed awfully eager to have her around.

"I'll be right back," Ginny insisted, hand already on the doorknob.

Though it didn't seem like much, the disappointment was evident in her face. She was so close to getting free. All she needed was a little more. 

"Alright," she sighed, picking up a book from her nightstand.

Rather shakily, Becky noticed, Ginny turned the knob and stepped out into the hall.

As the door closed shut behind her, Rebecca couldn't help but smile to herself. She knew Ginny was basically powerless, even if she did know what was going on. She could run away and try to hide, but this was just as fruitless as one trying to run away from a part of their body without removing it first. She could attack Becky, but the only one who could possibly die was Ginny - and under some circumstances, that could very well happen. True, it was still all very simple for Ginny to flush this parasite out of her system, but so far, she was clueless...well, pretty much.

Becky knew Ginny wouldn't be able to hold back too much longer. All she needed was a little more strength. 

__

Why, at this rate, I could be out before dawn.

Eyes still wide and alert, she quickly made her way down the stairs, hurrying away from her dormitory. When she walked into the common room, she paused momentarily at the portrait and looked to her right. Harry had already left. Never minding it, she exited the tower, aimlessly heading down the corridor. 

Her pace eventually slowed the farther down she went. The whole time, she was thinking about Becky.

__

Becky...is that even her real name?

Now that she thought about it, she wasn't so sure about Becky anymore. She had become increasingly darker in personality over the months. And then there was the lack of records, the people who couldn't or haven't seen her, the...the fact that she ate very little if at all.

__

But then again, they found her records. And Dumbledore recognized them! I heard them talking!

But then again, he didn't seem too happy when Madame Pomfrey found them. What was wrong? Or maybe none of this had happened - had she just imagined it all? Possibly, since they have a name for it...

__

That ridiculous! she thought dismissively. _I'm plenty aware of what's real and what's fake... But I haven't always been..._

But no, she decided, _I couldn't be schizophrenic. Daphne was pushed down the stairs - Becky did that._

Did she? said another voice in her head. _Schizophrenics tend to loose touch with real world --_

Well, I haven't! she thought defiantly. _I have no symptoms --_

Are you sure? I mean, just look at the situation. You're pretty defensive of you friend, you deny the claims of everyone else that there's nothing there.

Stop it!

And by the way, you are having a conversation with yourself. There's a name for that, too.

Stop it, stop it --

"Stop it!" she whispered harshly into the drafty air, to no one in particular except for herself. She stopped in her tracks, becoming completely still. There was an odd pain in her hands. She looked down at them to discover that her hands, at some point in her brief bought of fury, had balled themselves into tight fists. Her nails were digging into her palm; she let her fingers unfurl themselves.

"Stop what?" said a familiar voice. Before, it had been a welcoming tone.

Now, it made Ginny's stomach knot.

A low chuckle was heard.

Straightening up, she looked around, suddenly curious about her surroundings. The corridor was completely void of anyone else except the two of them. She carefully avoided the area behind her. 

Still, she cautiously turned around to face Rebecca. Her eyes were smiling, even when her mouth was not. Idly she crossed her arms behind her back. Several moments passed as Ginny stared at her, ready to take off.

"Are you okay, Gin?" she said innocently, the brightness in her tone evident.

Ginny found her breath again before answering. "Who are you?" she murmured, still as a statue.

Becky sighed. "It's getting late. Maybe you should rest for a little while--"

"Who are you?" she repeated, a bit more forcefully this time.

Becky raised an eyebrow at Ginny. "It's me, Ginny. Rebecca."

"What are you?" continued Ginny, backing away. "Where did you come from? Why are you here?"

"What are you _talking_ about?" Becky responded, taking a step closer. "I'm from Ireland, remember --"

"Are you real?"

"Of course I'm real!"

"Why can't they see you? Are you a ghost? Am I the only one who sees you…? And your hair –" Ginny had just noticed. "Your hair was wet! How did it dry so fast?"

"Ginny, that's enough," said Becky, becoming a bit aggravated. "Harry's looking for you, anyway. Now c'mon."

"Answer me!"

Ginny was now openly glaring at Becky in suspicion; Becky was glaring back, her mood now in sharp contrast from her happy, innocent one.

"Very well," she said darkly.

And that was the last thing Ginny had heard, at least from Becky, before a familiar feeling flooded her head, her body. It was the same as when she had brought Daphne to the hospital wing. At first, for a fleeting moment, she was lightheaded, and then the pain. It seemed to start at the core of her brain and, within seconds, it had spread down to her toes. This time, she didn't faint, at least, not as quickly as she would've hoped. She was still awake to feel the dull pain in her knees as she dropped, her arms instinctively breaking her fall. Vaguely she felt the hot tears spilling forth, dripping from her cheeks to the marble ground at which she clutched in agony. Eventually, her arms gave and her body entirely collapsed to the floor.

The pain of Becky leaving her body for the last time seemed to go on forever before it faded away, just as quickly as it had begun, leaving Ginny weak. Her eyelids desperately heavy, she opened them one more time to see Becky peering down at her. Her expression was like pale stone, cold and unyielding.

And just before the girl before her passed out, she smiled.

She awoke sometime later. Her vision was blurry as her eyes flickered open, steadily becoming clearer. The room was pitch dark, save for the faint glow of the waning moon outside her window. She could tell she was in her dormitory, her bed. She tried to turn over and get a better look at her surroundings – to find she couldn't move. In slight panic, she let out a slight whimper and tried harder. She was only able to pick up her left arm before it plopped helplessly back to the bed.

"Need some help?" said a male voice. As he spoke, Ginny felt a pair of warm hands roll her over onto her back. Despite her frailty, she managed to jump in shock and horror, her eyes wide as saucers. He was a teenage boy, no older than sixteen, with jet-black hair, pale skin and dark, shadowy eyes. But there were no glasses, no scars.

She was suddenly staring up into the face of Tom Riddle.

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Dun dun dun...!! A turn of events? Does this spell doom for Ginny Weasley, or perhaps Harry Potter? O_O. Till next time, I'm Maddie Lupin. Thanks for reading. And say, if I were to update sometime after OotP, would you still read?  
  



	13. Losers, Weepers

  
  
A/N: Ahoy hoy, everyone! One day, six hours and thirty minutes! Hurray!  
  
One more chapter to go...! No, not this one. The last chapter will be the thirteenth, which is almost done. I aim to finish before I actually begin reading the next book; maybe I'll even have it up tomorrow or Saturday, but I really don't know. I'm tryin' though.  
  
Thanks to all who reviewed my story: Kryptonite, anable, Rjk, A.Dee, liltrick, Wicked Lee, scabberssucks (he he), and Frederick.  
  
You will notice I have included a bit more of Fiona Apple's "Fast As You Can" in the beginning. Skipped a big part of the song, but that's okay. Enjoy :).  
  
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_But if you're getting any bright ideas, quiet dear  
I'm blooming within  
Fast as you can, baby  
Wait, watch me, I'll be out  
Fast as I can, maybe late but at least about  
Fast as you can, leave me, let this thing run its route  
Fast as you can  
  
_ Chapter Twelve  
Losers, Weepers  
  


He just smiled as he stood over her. "Better, I presume?"

She only gave another distraught whimper, struggling to move away. He simply chuckled.

"You're fighting a loosing battle, Ginny. You're not going anywhere."

Her breathing became rapid and desperate; she could feel her heart pounding harshly against her ribs, the blood rushing in her veins.

"No," she breathed, unable to grasp that this supposedly destroyed being was standing over her feeble body once more. "But he…killed you…"

He scoffed, casually taking a seat where Becky had once slept. "Death for me and for those like me is but a mere wish… I might as well keep you company for the next few minutes; I haven't gotten all my needed strength yet."

She stayed silent and continued to stare at him, unblinking and terrified. Tom went on.

"Let's see, where to start… Ah, yes. When he destroyed the diary. True, he did do that…but that's like burning down a person's home, you see. The person doesn't always die. The only difference in this scenario, I suppose, is that _I'm_ not a person, but a memory. And you, of all people, should know that memories don't die. They can't."

Ginny only flinched slightly at his stern remark. Her expression now showed despair. 

"Anyway," he persevered, "when one's home has been burned to the ground, what does he normally do? Well, they find a new one, Ginny." 

He gave her a mild suggesting tap on the nose with a long index finger. Her face deadened in realization. 

"You've been living in me," she said softly, looking away. "The whole time, you were right here…all along…"

He smirked, his eyes solidly looking upon her. "To be perfectly honest, I wasn't exactly happy either, at least not at first. Not until I found a way to feed off of you until I could free myself. I don't know why I didn't see it before – probably angered into stupidity, like so many others – it was remarkably similar to getting out of that diary. I mean, you were still lonely, you needed a friend, so why not?"

Ginny blinked lethargically. She could still feel herself getting weaker and weaker.

"You made Becky," she whispered, feeling somewhat empty inside.

He smirked again. "I _am _Becky," he said, his voice changing into hers. Switching back to his normal voice, he explained. "Obviously, she was my cover. Logic tells me you would've lost it if you found the person who almost murdered you and your boyfriend sleeping in the bed next to you. So I used Rebecca Cwalino.

"Verily, she was my first girlfriend. We were in the same year, she was actually in Ravenclaw." He paused to sigh. "We had some good times together. Even when she was sick, I stayed in with her. She didn't care that I was a bastard child, or a half-blood, or an orphan. She made me feel like I mattered. I felt so safe with her…I barely even realized it when I slipped up and told her I was a Parselmouth. Needless to say, she didn't take it very well. Who would've? It was practically the mark of a Dark wizard, especially during the era of Grindewald… She became distant, very distant. Again, I was alone."

Ginny's eyes widened. _You didn't kill her for _that_, did you?_

"I didn't kill her at all," responded Tom, discerning her thoughts. "You forget, I'm still in your head; I can read you like a book if I wanted to. But no, I didn't kill her. I couldn't. I guess I was too attached to her to let go. I looked into her file when I went to see Daphne; Becky died of pneumonia nine years ago. Her immune system wasn't exactly the greatest thing in the world, as I've told you. I'm surprised she even lived _that_ long.

"At any rate, that's how all of this really started. She was the best friend I'd ever had; one of the only ones I'd ever have. I felt dead inside when I lost her trust. There was nothing left for me, and I had nothing to lose… You know, I suppose that's what has made Voldemort into the crazed man he is today? There was so much jealousy, anger, hatred – and he kept it all in. Mix those all together, and you get apathy… It all started with me."

Ginny peered at him from her paralyzed spot. She almost felt sorry for him. Almost. 

He stood suddenly, looking down at his hands. "I can't believe this…" he said in a much different tone of voice. "I feel alive again…"

It was then that Ginny again became aware of what was going on. Moving her neck slightly, she looked down at her own body. She wasn't sure whether she was just delirious, but she swore she seemed somewhat transparent in contrast with her robes. She felt helpless and weak again, knowing it was too late to control him. She kept her questions simple now.

"Will I die?"

Tom looked down at her, his face once again emotionless. "I'm not going to kill you, if that's what you mean. Don't have to; I have what I need to do what I must."

Ginny grimaced. "Please, not Harry…"

He didn't respond in any way. Her eyes misted over.

"Please," she pleaded, tiredly trying to pull in her robes and hide her wand. "You can't."

"Give me your wand," he demanded. Almost gently, his hand slipped past her grasping fingers and retrieved her wand with ease.

"I'm sorry, Ginny," he said blankly, gripping the wand tightly in his left hand. "I must have my revenge."

In vain she tried to lift herself off of the bed, but with buckling elbows, she fell back down to the mattress and began sobbing into the pillows.

__

I'm sorry, Harry, she thought vaguely. As she wept, she vaguely heard heavy footsteps becoming fainter, fainter…then they stopped.

No door had been opened or shut, no others sounds except for Ginny's gasping sobs. The footsteps had simply…stopped…. 

Ginny's tears immediately halted. She knew Tom was still in the room. Ears suddenly alert, she listened intently for something besides the silence.

And then, Tom's panicked voice, something she thought she'd never hear.

"What's going on?" said Tom in a combination of apprehension and anger.

Ginny's brow, in spite of herself, furrowed as she tried her best to turn around and look. She didn't achieve this before she heard his wand – her wand – clatter on the floor, heard his increasing breath as it did.

Somehow, perhaps out of her curiosity, she found the strength to roll herself onto her other side. All she could really see was the back of Tom and how he looked down in confusion at himself. He was silent for a few seconds, and then – 

"N-no…" he stuttered quietly, turning his hands over to examine them further. "You couldn't… _No_…"

In complete shock, he turned around to face Ginny. His face seemed to be even paler; his eyes wide and frightened, yet casting a venomous look upon her.

"What are you doing?" he hissed at her, instantly furious. "Stop it!"

Ginny, confused at what she was doing that was so wrong, said nothing. She just watched, searching for clues to what was happening all of a sudden. Then she noticed a small gleam, seeping between the crevices beneath and above the doorway. 

That didn't worry her as much as the fact that Tom was standing in front of the doorway.

__

He's…He's disappearing…but how?

"Stop!" he yelled again, a bit more desperately. "I can't rest until he's dead!"

"It's not me…" she whispered, though unsure if he'd actually heard her. 

The gleam steadily became a radiant light, illuminating the threshold and everything around it, piercing Tom's translucent form. He began to shout, from the very depths of his chimerical lungs, as he dropped to the ground; she could feel it, a faint rumbling spreading through her body. 

And slowly, feeling the familiar dull ache in her head, Ginny felt her strength return. As it did, she gradually pushed herself off the bed, cautiously scooting closer for a better view. She watched him on the floor as he writhed in pain, in frustration, in despair.

Beside him was her wand. As he continued to scream, she quickly pounced for it and backed up the edge of the room, making sure she was out of his grasp. But it didn't matter; he continued to weaken, she continued to become stronger. Still, she backed away in fear, silently looking on.

__

Who's doing this?

To her side, there was a faint creaking, followed by a loud bang, the room suddenly becoming fully alight. She screamed slightly, jumping away from the doorway.

The door was finally blasted off the hinges, most likely by whatever was causing the light. It reverberated against the floor, masking Tom's yelps for only seconds. Ginny looked expectedly to the door. She seemed to find her voice.

"Is anyone there?" she shouted, unable to decipher much with the blinding light in her eyes.

Two more voice joined the turmoil.

"Ginny?" called the first voice. "Where are you?"

"Oh, she wasn't a girl at all…!" sounded the second voice calmly over the noise. Both were male voices, she concluded as the second continued. 

"I thought so…! No, stay back! You lot would probably do well to not intercept the wand!"

She looked hopefully toward the door, now able to make out a few figures in the doorway beyond the light.

"Ms. Weasley!" called the second voice. "Can you hear me?"

"Yeah!" she called back, grateful someone had come in time.

"Alright, listen carefully! I need you to come out – be sure to avoid the light as much as possible!"

She'd heard him but simply stood there, glancing nervously back and forth between the door and Tom. What if he grabbed her as she approached the door, dragged her down with him?

"He can no longer harm you, Ms. Weasley!" he called again, seeming to read her mind. "But whatever you do, do _not_ intercept the wand!"

With a timid gulp, she edged along the wall, reaching the door. She looked down one more time at Tom Riddle. His hollow figure didn't return her gaze, eyes squeezed shut in agony. Turning away, she ducked lowly beneath the beams and exited the room. 

She was still ducking when she felt someone grab her arm and lead her out. Straightening up, she looked up at the person, the first one she saw.

Harry was the one who guided her through the doorway. Before she could even comprehend that she was out of the dormitory, she was suddenly enveloped into his arms. Very tightly. Suffocating, she tried to pull back.

"You okay, Gin?" said Harry almost casually. She was able to move her head just enough to give him a look.

"Peachy," she breathed sarcastically. Finally, he released her, and she then proceeded to look around, eyes widening as she did.

The whole house was awake.

It seemed they were all whispering amongst themselves when she came out; now there was a sea of gasps.

"She's alive!"

"Who's screaming then?"

"But I don't see any blood!"

Her brow furrowed slightly at that certain comment, looking around to see who said it, but no sooner was she out of Harry's close grip that another pair of arms suddenly snaked around her and pulled her into a hug.

"You're alright!" she heard him yell above her head.

Again feeling her air supply dwindling, she fought against him until he freed her.

No one but Ron. Behind him were Hermione and Dumbledore (who, she now saw, was holding the wand).

Hermione was next in line, briefly capturing Ginny in a bear hug before pulling away, asking tons of health-related questions.

"Ginny, are you okay? Are you injured in any way? Nothing's broken, right? Oh, I hope the spell the headmaster's doing didn't hurt you! We should get you to the hospital wing straight away! Oh, did Tom hurt you at all? 'Cause if he did –"

"Hermione!" said Ginny finally, silencing the other girl. "Yes, I'm okay. No, I'm not injured. Nothing's broken; the worst that's happened to me so far are a few headaches –"

"Oh, but that could be _anything_!" Hermione went on. "You've any idea how much disease or infliction involves headaches? Do you feel ill at all?"

"I feel great now," said Ginny simply with a small smile. Hermione lapsed into silence once again.

After a little while, what was left of Tom was gone from the dormitory, leaving a dark, open room; everything within was quiet and calm again. The wand light put out just as he was performing another spell. 

"_Reparo_."

And the door instantly flew back onto its hinges as if nothing had ever happened.

***************************************************************************************  
  
Yay! He's gone...sort of. That's the next chapter, of course. This is Maddie Lupin, saying thanks for reading, everyone.   
  
Just think - this time the day after tomorrow, we'll all finally have "Order of the Phoenix" in our hands...*sigh, faraway look*  
  



	14. Extundo Inhabilis

  
  
A/N:*SPOILER WARNING, at the end of the chapter, about who dies. I keep forgetting there're still people who haven't finished. Thanks to Darcel for reminding me :).* Alright, it's been a couple of weeks, but I've finished the last chapter yesterday :). Wow, this story ended up being at least twice as long as I expected. I don't know; maybe I just like to improvise. And this is really the first story I've actually completed. Thanks to my reviewers, the people who made this all possible: Diiniam, Rjk2005, A.Dee, Wicked Lee, Kryptonite, Darcel, SporkGoddess, and Sache8. *becomes every Mrs. America you've ever seen* I couldn't have done it without you! *tears up and fans self*   
  
Now, some completely off-topic stuff: my sister's pregnant! Yay! I've finally got the house to myself (my cousin and brother are out-of-town [yay!]). I've been listening to John Mayer and drawing all day. This afternoon I drew Bellatrix LeStrange with her Death Eater robes. It came out pretty good, considering it was me who drew it. Pity I don't have a scanner.  
  
Well, anyway, enough of that. At long last, the thirteenth and final chapter, "Extundo Inhabilis." Enjoy :).  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
Chapter Thirteen  
Extundo Inhabilis  


Dumbledore pocketed his wand, turning to face Ginny.

"Follow me," he murmured quietly, beginning to climb down the stairs. He paused to speak to the house full of confused students.

"That's enough excitement for tonight, wouldn't you say?" he stated tiredly, checking his watch. "Oh dear me, it's already past four. Please, return to your dormitories and get some sleep – you've got a ball today!"

Murmuring their puzzlement as a whole, they all began to head back to their own rooms. Ginny continued to follow Dumbledore down the footsteps; here and there, someone from the clearing crowd would stop to ask her what happened. She just shrugged. She didn't know either.

Once the two of them were out of the Gryffindor tower and walking down the corridor, Dumbledore spoke again. 

"First things first," he said, looking to Ginny as they strolled. "You're probably wondering what just happened."

She nodded. "Did you destroy him?"

His expression turned grim. "Well, Ms. Weasley, I am afraid the thing you saw back there cannot be destroyed. I have simply restored your strength and its weakness, forcing it back into the host…hence all the screaming."

Her eyes widened, staring at him in disbelief, now noticing the feeling of light taps behind her ears.

"Why would you do a thing like that?"

He chuckled. "It's so much easier and safer to flush out a parasite from within the host these days… Besides, he was draining you of your strength to use at his own advantage, and I am sure none of us wanted to see that.

"As for Rebecca Cwalino, she was a real girl. Yes, I remember Rebecca. Very bright indeed, transferred here from a small private school in Ireland. Always seemed to be sick though, the poor girl…"

"And she died nine years ago of pneumonia," added Ginny. Dumbledore nodded.

"So it was Tom, but you saw Rebecca, correct?"

She nodded and looked forward despondently. "Yes, sir… Where exactly are we going?"

"There's a spell that you can do to get rid of the parasite," he explained, "but I forgot what it was. The only way I know is the only other way: destroying the host. Thus, we head to the library. Not a word to Madame Pince – I told her I had been visiting during the night a few years back, and she nearly had _me_ expelled."

She walked in silence the rest of the way, listening absently to Dumbledore's adventures. 

"But then I realised," he was saying, "that in my hurry get see what all the commotion was about, I had forgotten to put on my trousers. Luckily, I had only made it as far as the first block – oh, here we are."

Magicking the lock, they quietly slipped into the library. The whole building was pitch dark, minus a few spots by the window. Dumbledore lit his wand, and Ginny followed him further into the back portion. She'd never been in this part of the library, looking around curiously. She was faintly aware that some of the books were snoring or growling at them as they passed by.

They stopped about halfway into the second-to-last isle. Dumbledore passed his wand over the books, reading the titles and looking for the right one. He paused for a second, pulling one off the shelf.

"Ah, here we go," he said lightly, handing her the book. In the wand light she read the title: _So You Have a Murderous Parasite?_ Under it the subtitle read, _Get rid of that little bugger before it gets rid of you!_ If she hadn't been so shaken up, she was sure she would've laughed.

"You should find what you need in there," he said, beginning to lead her back out of the library. "A parasitic memory is very similar to chicken pox; once you've had it, it never comes back. I trust you can perform the spell yourself. Try to find a remote area because it latches onto the person or organism closest to it. It doesn't like to travel great distances so it becomes absorbed in the grass or some other kind of plant. I suggest somewhere on the far side of the lake; it might occupy a tree."

"But…" began Ginny thoughtfully. "If it only occupies other living things, how come it was in a diary first?"

"It can only occupy abiotic objects if the creator puts it there," explained Dumbledore. "You did not create it and therefore cannot choose where it goes. You can help control it, though."

"But," said Ginny again, glancing up at him, "if this spell gets rid of memories…couldn't I get amnesia?"

Dumbledore smiled softly. "Sure, if all of your memories weren't yours. You see, Ms. Weasley, when a memory finds a new home, it's considered a parasite. It needs to feed off of the strength of another."

"And if it doesn't?"

"Well, it just becomes severely weakened. Almost the equivalent to the results of a Dementor's Kiss. Worse than dead."

A silence followed. She stared silently at the world outside, seeing by the dim light of the moon that it was snowing again as they returned to the Gryffindor tower. They were soon back at the portrait of the Fat Lady, who was snoozing peacefully within her frames. As Ginny was about to wake her up and give her the password, another question came to mind.

"Professor?" she said mildly.

"Yes?"

"I was just wondering… Has this happened before?" 

__

He did, after all, seem pretty calm about it.

He looked down at her, eyes twinkling slightly.

"It has, actually… I don't think the intentions were such as yours, but the headaches were terrible all the same… Well, good evening, Ms. Weasley. Remember, secluded area."

And with that, he left an inquisitive-looking Ginny, staring after him in curiosity. 

She didn't sleep at all after the events that evening. She didn't even really return to her dormitory except to get her blanket from her four-poster, feeling paranoid the whole time she was in the room. She spent the last hours of the night and first of the morning in front of the common room fireplace, which was currently void of fire. 

It didn't take her long to find the right spell in the book after looking in the index. After reading the page on parasitic memories – and that's all it was, a page – she scoffed quietly in disbelief.

__

I could've done this ages_ ago._

She thought of a recluse place where she could do the spell as she watched the milky sky glow lighter with the rising sun, picking somewhere where she'd hopefully never have to worry about this again. It was half past six when she decided to go, before everyone woke up that morning.

One hand was carrying the book; the other clutched her cloak around her in the brisk weather. She had to squint in the howling wind to see her way to the Forbidden Forest. Briefly she glanced down at the ground and mildly regarded the few, visible patches of frozen grass, remembering Dumbledore's words that she was likely walking on thousands of other stray memories.

She paused under the trees gathered on the outskirts of the forest and, looking around in slight caution, removed the wand from her robes and opened the book to the marked page. Nervously pointing the wand to her head, she managed to clearly pronounce the spell.

"_Extundo inhabilis."_

It was like a cold breath was being sucked from her, a wind-swept sensation filing through her mouth, nose, ears, and eyes as he left her body. Her eyes widened in panic, finding she suddenly couldn't breathe. It lasted only a few seconds longer, after which she gasped for air, blinking a few times to remoisten her eyes.

And then she saw it. It was shapeless and whiter than the snow, resembling a small, opaque cloud. Noiselessly, it began to drift away, aimlessly heading deeper into the woods. In amazement, she watched it disappear into the dense mass of trees.

__

He's gone. A new feeling of redemption overcame her.

She lingered for a few moments before an especially powerful gust of wind passed over, blowing her hair into her eyes. As if just realising where she was, she pocketed her wand and turned back towards the castle, still looking astonished. She glanced back at the forest one more time and smiled in relief.

She was remotely aware that it was Christmas, there was a ball that evening, and she'd been wearing the same clothes since yesterday. She passed some other students in the corridors going down to breakfast, a few of them Gryffindors. She guessed that some of them were talking about what had happened last night; as she passed, their avid conversations halted and they fixed her with curious glances. She didn't really notice, with a bounce apparent in her step, for Tom was gone at last…she hoped.

Her dormitory was still empty when she entered it. For a fleeting moment she wondered where Becky was when a little reminder popped up in her brain.

__

Becky's not real.

Ginny's smile faltered as she stared at the vacant sheets of the bed that neighbored her. She felt suddenly deprived. While she realised the true identity and now knew that Rebecca was just a deception…her best friend was gone.

With a sigh, she dropped heavily onto her own bed, still staring and lost in thought. A few minutes later, the door opened behind her. Startled, she whirled around to see who had entered.

Daphne now stood at the door, staring back at Ginny. Her blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail; the neck brace and the scar on her cheek were gone. Giving Ginny a small smile, she closed the door behind her.

"Hello," she greeted from where she stood.

"Hi," replied Ginny awkwardly. "Er… How're you feeling?"

"Oh, I'm fine," said Daphne, proceeding to her trunk. "All better now. I have to pack – my parents are taking me home for a little while."

Ginny nodded a little and looked down at the floor, feeling a small twinge of guilt. There was a pause for a few seconds before Daphne spoke up again.

"I know it wasn't you, Ginny," she said simply, putting some of her schoolbooks into the trunk. Ginny looked up at her, eyeing her with interest.

"Dumbledore explained it to me and Madame Pomfrey this morning in the hospital wing," Daphne continued as she packed. "I think I saw the girl too, a couple days ago. She fitted your description, except she was kinda…clear. I suppose that at the moment I thought I was just seeing things, what with the fall down the stairs. She didn't stay long, after all…"

"She's gone now," informed Ginny, glancing back at the bed to her side. "We won't have to worry about it anymore."

"I hope so," said Daphne with a nervous chuckle. "Erm, by the way, I'm sorry I assumed you were…well, crazy. I admit that was wrong of me."

Ginny smiled gently. "It's okay. I kind of thought it was you."

Daphne smirked again, closing her trunk. "Well, I have to go now. Have a Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas."

And with that, she levitated her trunk with her wand, directing it ahead of her and out of the dormitory, leaving Ginny alone in the dormitory once again. She looked around her dormitory at her deserted surroundings and sighed once more, getting up for a quick shower before breakfast.

As she approached the Gryffindor table, she was instantly showered with several questions from some of the previous night's spectators while some just sat and stared, whispering to each other. She sat with Harry, Ron and Hermione that morning, all of whom were fending off the inquiries. When things had quieted down a bit, Harry glanced at her sideways, smiling kindly.

"So what'd Dumbledore say?" he asked quietly. She gave him an indignant look.

"Didn't you just fight off dozens of people asking that same question?"

"Yeah, but we're your friends."

"And family," added Ron, leaning in case she was going to tell them something. Hermione rolled her eyes at them.

"Boys," she muttered, then also turning to Ginny concernedly. "But did he take you to the hospital wing? Did they find what was wrong?"

Ginny made her answer short and simple. "No, he didn't. He already knew what was wrong, and the problem is all gone now. Pass the eggs."

They all took the hint and fell silent.

After breakfast she sat in the common room, wrapped in her blanket and dozing off. Most everyone was now outside in the snow or in Hogsmeade. Exhausted, she decided to just stay in. She could do her celebrating tomorrow; today, she was utterly exhausted.

It wasn't long before there was a set of footsteps behind her, descending from the dormitory stairs. She opened her eyes and looked up to see Harry, hands jammed in his pockets. She smiled calmly at him, glad it wasn't someone else, the one who was prone to show up while she was alone. 

She watched as he took the armchair next to her.

"Hello, Harry," she said in a yawn, shifting to better face him.

"Hey," he said cheerily in response. "What are you doing in here by yourself? It's Christmas – you're supposed to be rejoicing."

"I don't have the energy to rejoice," she said in defense, blinking slowly. "Dead tired. I didn't sleep at all last night."

Harry's answer was delayed. "What happened last night?"

Ginny sighed, looking up at him. She knew he was going to ask that. _I guess it wouldn't hurt to tell him; after all, he _was _about to get attacked…_

"Might as well tell you… Remember Tom?"

She saw Harry's eyes widen slightly. "Riddle…?"

She nodded lethargically. "He almost got us again. Well, you, anyway," she said sourly. "He already had me."

He stared at her in confusion. "You mean to say…that thing in your dormitory…"

"…Was Tom Riddle," she finished dully.

He continued to stare, shaking his head idly. "But I destroyed his diary, that should've –"

"Memories can't die," explained Ginny. "When you destroyed his diary, his memory found a new home." She languidly tapped at her head. Harry's mouth opened in disbelief. He was silent for a long time, then speaking cautiously.

"Let me get this straight… I destroy the diary, and his memory gets _into your head_? And he's been living there all this time?"

She nodded again. His bewildered expression turned into a remorseful one.

"I'm sorry," he said apologetically, his voice soft. "I didn't know –"

"I know you didn't," she interrupted. "It was better for you to do it in any case, or he'd have just outright killed me. Anyway, remember my friend I told you about, Becky?"

"Yeah."

Taking a deep breath, she told him about what Rebecca really was, what had happened in the dormitory, and what she'd done that morning.

"So now, he's drifting somewhere in the Forbidden Forest?" said Harry nervously.

"Probably attached to a tree somewhere by now," added Ginny quickly. "And he can't leave the host until the host frees him, dies or gives him enough strength to leave."

"Alright…" said Harry thoughtfully. "But…I'm not trying to say anything, but why didn't he just…kill you?"

"He'd have lost his source of power. He can't survive on his own without taking all my strength first." She gave him a meaningful glance. "I suppose he didn't want to wait that long."

They stared at each other for a long time. 

"For what it's worth, I didn't really think you pushed her down the stairs," said Harry quietly. "Sorry if I sounded suspicious."

"You were just upset," said Ginny benevolently. "So was I. I didn't really think you were coming on to Cho, either. I think Tom was just trying to make me suspicious."

Harry shook his head slowly. Choosing to change the topic, Ginny was the first to break their silence.

"Don't you have a present you were supposed to give to me?"

Harry's face lit up in realisation. "Oh, yeah… It should be under the tree somewhere…" He got back up and went to the Christmas tree, picking up a medium-sized gift. He handed it to her over his shoulder, then retrieving his own present.

"Gee, I wonder what this could be," said Harry in mock curiosity. Ginny turned to watch him rip off the wrapping paper. Harry gasped dramatically at the Canary Creams.

"How'd you know?"

"I thought you'd like them," she said flatly, turning back around and began to unwrap her own present. "Happy Christmas."

She saw Harry returning to his chair out of the corner of her eye, sitting on the edge of it. Paper gone, she opened the exposed white box. Underneath the tissue paper were neatly folded midnight blue robes. Not unlike the ones she had upstairs in her trunk. Her jaw dropped in shock as she silently stared at them.

"Those were the ones you saw in Gladrags, right?" said Harry, apparently oblivious that she had already bought them. "Thought you could wear them to the ball, if you still want to go."

"Yeah…" she said distantly, lifting them out of the box by the shoulders. "Do you know how much these robes cost?"

"Fifty Galleons. It's okay, though; it's money I really don't need. I'd just give it away, but no one seems to want it," he added earnestly, seeing the suddenly forlorn expression on Ginny's face.

For a brief moment, she considered telling him that she had another set of the same robes upstairs. She quickly decided against it. 

__

The boy just saved me fifty Galleons.

"They're beautiful, Harry," she said, her face softening. "Wait…what do you mean, 'if I still want to go?'"

"Nothing, it's just…" he said, considering his words carefully, "it's been a long night and all…and everyone's asking questions…I understand if you just want to stay in tonight."

She grinned slowly. "I've never been so popular," she said in a humourous tone. 

Harry smirked softly, sitting back in his chair. "Welcome to the club."

There was a short silence, both of them staring into the crackling fire. Ginny turned to look at him.

"If I stay in, will you stay in?"

He returned her gaze. "Most likely, seeing as how you're my date."

"Good, 'cause I need some rest," she said, putting the box on the floor and recovering herself with the blanket. Harry looked affronted.

"And what am I supposed to do?"

"I'll tell you what," she said with closed eyes. "Go down to the kitchens, get some marshmallows, and we'll roast them with an untwisted wire hanger. That way, I don't have to move too much."

"Marshmallows, it is!" cheered Harry, jumping up from his chair. "I'll be back."

Ginny sighed softly, listening to the portrait open and shut, and rested her head against the back of the chair and listened. It was so quiet now, with just the popping flames and the wind gently rattling the windows. 

She almost expected Becky to come down and talk with her at that moment, but no, Becky – or Tom, rather – was gone. He was now beyond prospect, trapped in the forest, his plans foiled once again. And he couldn't come back to her, give her some delusion of a friend.

She smiled delicately. _There's hope for you yet, Ginny._

***********************************************************************  
  
Yay! He...! Er, she...! It's gone! Let us all celebrate and frolic through the streets like children of the night! He he. Well, I'm now working on a MWPP fanfic, starring my favorite character (guess who :P). It's going pretty well; I may already have a first chapter :).   
  
Okay, some quick stuff on the book: I have, of course, finished OotP, and I loved it. Angsty!Harry all the way! I do, however, grieve for the honorable (well, sorta, after the Pensieve thing) Sirius Black. Poor Remus - he's the last Marauder now (the last _true_ Marauder, anyway *glares at Peter*). Rest in Peace, Mr. Padfoot.   
  
*raises pretend glass* To Mr. Remus J. Lupin, the lone Marauder.  
  
Well, I'm off to my room to cry now. Thanks for reading :). 


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